A Gaggle of Horseradish and Buttcheeks

The night was smoother than expected. Only three students sobbed for their home, two tried to escape by jumping out of the window into the catfish filled moat and only one tried to have a villain’s monologue in the common room. They were quickly silenced when eighteen pillows smacked into their head. 

No one knew where Lutetia found so many. 

By the time morning came and a loud ringing sound filled the air, closely followed by the morning buzzer, Booby and her friends were feeling remarkably refreshed. 

The common rooms had been tidied, with fresh Hatsune Mikus set up in place of those that had been removed, destroyed or in one case, eaten. There were also parcels with each student's name on them. 

“If this is another bomb I’m going to be very upset.” Lutetia grumbled. “That was the worst fourth birthday party I ever had. They gave me a Malibu Barbie instead of the Optimus Prime dream RV I wanted.”

Bibby tugged at the strings of her own parcel to reveal a set of clothes, with spares, that resembled a seventies disco outfit with a little note in an envelope. 

“Please enjoy your new school uniforms, chosen by the headmaster. They must be worn each day when attending classes, and put into the enchanted linen baskets found in the common room each evening. Fresh uniform will be provided every morning courtesy of the Pangolin Delivery Service.”

“How marvellous!” Bibbu cheered, immediately rushing to her bedroom and pulling out her enormous badonkeroos to pull on the new uniform. They were just superb jaboingaloingas, the best big naturals you ever laid eyes on. We can’t go on enough about these titterinos but for the sake of levity will pause the explanation here. 

She pulled her brown hair into a ponytail, then braided it in a way that somehow left no fuzzy trails here and there and no uneven curls. Just perfect in a way some of us never seem able to manage despite other people being soooo good at it Tabitha! 

Ahem. 

Anyway. 

She came back out, a vision in electric green and yellow to find Lutetia in a checkerboard pattern of black and white, and Chekhov in blue and red with lapels so big they almost reached the floor. 

“You look nice,” She said. “Should we head to the big hall for breakfast?”

“I guess, hopefully I don’t trip on these damn things.” Chekhov grumbled as they started on their way to find sustenance. 

He tripped once on the stairs and once over a passing Pangolin holding a mop shaped parcel on its back. 

“God you’re slow!” Lutetia snapped, picked Bobbi up and leaping over several obstacles at a time. “If I were leading this damn group we would have eaten and made a game plan already. None of this crying and running into stuff like an idiot!” 

“Screw you! We can’t all be athletic!” Chekhov snapped as Jayce and his friends trotted past in perfect formation as they practiced their gymnastic talents. “Fucking typical.” 

Jayce waved at Bobbi as he passed her, looking very nice in a suit of chainmail, the uniform chosen for his dorm. 

“He seems nice.” Bobby said, waving back. 

Lutetia just scowled. “I don’t trust anyone with that much physical advantage who doesn’t use it to scale walls and murder your enemies.”

“Lutetia… how many enemies do you have?”

“At the moment, nineteen that I can safely discuss in an open forum. Why?”

“No reason…”

The trio entered the hall to find that several tarsiers had already filled the big tables with trays of breakfast food, including eggs, sausages, toast and several cubes of beef. 

The teachers sat at a table up on the stage where they could keep an eye on the dining students while eating their own breakfast. This also gave the students a perfect view of the headmaster wearing a bunch of bananas and telling his eggs how he met the King of the Kumquats and defeated him with a seductive dance. 

Bubbi ladled eggs and bacon onto her plate, while the others started gathering their favourites as well. For a while, the hall was filled with the sounds of hundreds of students eating and one small primate having a small existential crisis over a burnt bar of tomato paste. 

Once everyone had started to calm down, the shovelling slowing down to a more sedate nibble, Madame Von Wittgenstein stood up and clapped her hands for silence. 

Confused, one of the new students started to clap as well, which caused a ripple of applause through the hall until everyone caught sight of the deputy head’s face. 

“Now that everyone is quiet…” She began, feeling a sense of satisfaction as a disgruntled student threw an octopus at the back of the clapping student’s head. “We will be setting up class schedules. Your dorms will mix with others in these classes, as and when the narrative finds it convenient, and the rotas of classes will allow all students to learn something. Unless you’re really stupid in which case we’ll probably find a way to disappear you.” She shot a glance at the clapping student again, who hid his cephalopod covered head under his jacket. 

“Please each of you form lines, there’s a hundred and fifty of you starting new classes so form lines of fifty, this will be the timetables you join and all will have the same lessons on different days. Don’t get precious about where you go when just so long as we have at least one vaguely protagonist level student on each timetable.” 

Everyone started to scramble for the large boards that appeared at one end of the hall. The rich assholes paid students to form a barrier between them and those without trust funds, choosing to stand at the board marked 1. 

Jayce and his friends mountain biked to number 2 and both boards were filled with students within seconds. By the time Bubo and her friends made it to the right end of the hall, they only had space to join board number 3. 

As soon as the boards had the appropriately counted lines, with the odd, lost viking being shooed politely away again, the tarsiers brought out three desks, placing them in front of the boards with a chair at each place. A small Capybara took a seat at each desk and sat there, looking vaguely disgruntled. 

“You will be given a map of the grounds and a class schedule of your own by the Rodent Bureaucracy Committee.” Madam Von Wittgenstein continued. “You will have the rest of the day to explore the grounds, get used to where you need to be and when and gather supplies at the school closet. Take your items and leave the hall to make room for people to start moving thank you. Headmaster? Anything to add?”

“RAISINS IN BREAD IS A FOUL AFFRONT TO THE GODS!!!”

“Thank you headmaster. Go ahead students.” 

Everyone trooped in their lines one at a time, taking their papers from the bored-looking guinea bigs. The rich kids paid someone to pick theirs up and the jocks had the papers stuck to their weights. 

By the time Bibbu and the others were grabbing their stuff, most of the other students had scattered. Apart from the friend groups that stood in the doorways to discuss what their plans were. Because there’s always a damn friend group who thinks the doorways are a good place to stand and chat… naming no names. You know who you are. 

Bubbo looked at her schedule. She had two lessons from 8am, then a break, two more lessons, lunch and one last lesson for each day. 

Monday to Friday had a lesson called “Magic for Dummies”, then “Magic for Fitness”, was available Monday, Wednesday and Friday. 

Tuesday and Thursday was “Fortune Telling, for fun and for profit”, the rest of the lessons were scattered seemingly at random. There was “Magical Safety”, “Paperwork”, “Intro to Evil” and “Magical Summons, Pets and Familiars”. 

“This all seems so amazing!” She breathed, eyes wide. 

“Don’t get too excited.” Lutetia pointed out “They also have ‘Magical Capitalism, how to sell your soul for pennies’.”

“That could mean anything, they have another optional course for ‘Misdirection and Haha Fooled You’.” Chekhov pointed out. 

“But it’s magic, all of it is going to teach us to perform magic!! Aren’t you both excited?” Bubby asked, vibrating on the spot with excitement and causing some confusion in the people within hearing distance.

“I don’t get excited about new challenges,” Lutetia said. “I make plans to destroy the competition and excel at all the tasks before me so that none will be foolish enough to stand against me in any section of my life. I modelled my methods after Ghengis Khan.” 

“I’m not surprised somehow.” Chekhov said. “I still feel like there’s something weird about all this. Like, what are the rules here? Are we all going to be given access to world bending powers and then just… released into the world to do whatever the hell we like?”

“I’m sure the rules will be revealed as and when they’re relevant. It’s not like any form of government or business would have a set of rules written down anywhere in a way that’s easily accessible to those subject to such laws…. That would be way too hard for a lazy writer to come up with and refer to on more than one or two occasions.”

“I guess you’re right. Just seems like a hell of a lot of plot holes are appearing each time we look at the logic of human nature being exposed to these kinds of worlds.” 

“Just enjoy the ridiculous drama that results from the A plot, hopefully we get some interesting scenes out of it.” 

“Guys look!” Bobby interrupted. “Care of Creatures magical and edible, oh doesn’t that sound lovely? We can pet and cuddle the cute little animals!” 

Lutetia and Chekhov’s eyes focused on the ‘and edible’ part of the aforementioned sentence.

“I say we tell her.” Lutetia grinned. 

“Don’t you dare!” Chekhov warned. 

Within minutes, all three had been given their schedules and maps. Studying them, it appeared to be a well thought out and rational route around the grounds that the author decided to just bullshit as they went.

What? I have better things to do than figure out maps! I’m giving you a made up world for Oghma’s sake!

Everyone picked out their rooms, each with a distinct Hatsune Miku doll tucked into the covers of each bed like a blue haired stalker. 

Once the dolls had been removed and either placed in the same corner as other decorations, or thrown in the fire, the students of All Signs Point To Yes house in the Mysterious School on the Edge of Town Only Accessible by Train school of magic settled in the common room to get to know each other. 

Most of the protagonists started discussing their names and histories,  sitting in a circle while they each grated about their misunderstood personalities,  too cool for school attitudes and orphan statuses. 

Chekhov, Bubby and Lutetia took over a trio of armchairs that had been furnished in a bright blue colour. They chatted about what had happened,  where they came from, then lapsed into awkward quiet.

“Well obviously you're too bland and he's too lovesick to take charge here.” Lutetia snapped. “So I'm going to have to start. I am Lutetia Notasbadasexpected and I grew up with very strict parents. They would kill me every morning with cold poison and make me wake up an hour before I went to sleep just to go and work before I’d even learned how to walk. Since then, everything I’ve ever earned has come from my own iron fist, I use it to beat people into submission and take what I want. Now you, male person. Your turn.”

Chekhov took a minute to consider wether it was worth calling out some of what he just heard, then his survival instincts kicked in and he shook it off. “I’m Chekhov Boynextdoor, I’ve grown up living next door to Bubby for the entirety of my working memory and I like guns. I actually brought one with me in my bag…. Ah hell not again!” 

The girls watched him scrabbling through his things for a minute, then turned back to each other. “I’m Bobvi Protagonaistwithbigtits, I grew up as an orphan except my parents were both alive so that was rather traumatic. I never had a big dream beyond someday becoming someone’s most beloved wife and living happily ever after in some way, but at the same time being the odd one out who had no interest in romance because I was too busy doing traditionally masculine hobbies in a feminine way. I’ve never really known what I want from life so magic is quite a strange and interesting new development for me.”

“Why don’t you know what you want from life? Are you someone’s imaginary wet dream mixed with their unrealised hopes?” Lutetia sneered. 

“Hey, leave her alone! She has a different name spelling every sentence!” Chekov snapped. “Besides, what have you got going on except the overreaction of someone who never got the support she needed from her parents and felt forced to instil a ruthless efficiency to get what she wants because no one was prepared to take pity on you and give you the backing you needed to understand that perfection was an unattainable goal used to keep people away rather than learning how to be vulnerable and just maybe find real love?”

“.....Too mean.” Lutetia sniffed. 

“Please be nice to each other,” Bonny begged. “You’re the only two people prepared to interact with me on a long term basis for more than just big events that require more action than just the main characters talking. So I’m going to ask you nicely to please get along so the three of us have someone to turn to when things inevitably go bad later in the series.”

The other two glared at each other, but put down the bladed weapons they’d grabbed. 

“Sorry.” Chekhov grumbled.

“I accept your apology.” Lutetia nodded. 

Chekhov picked up his machete again until Bobby pushed his hand away. 

“That’s great that we’re all getting along now.” She said. “Now I think we should seal our friendship with something like a nice handshake, or a friendship bracelet each, or we could seal an ancient evil over the next few books OOH! Or we could have a movie night?”

“Why not just tie each other up and pour pig’s blood on our faces?” Lutetia grumbled. 

“Be serious!” Chekhov snarled. 

“I was!” Lutetia protested. 

“Oh… well, let’s not get over complicated with this. Maybe we just do something calm like a board game first?”

Ten minutes later they’d found a simple enough game involving dice rolls, predatory crabs and tiny game pieces the perfect shape for getting lost in underage player’s facial orifices. 

Twenty minutes later, Bodby was quietly crying, Chekhov was bandaging his hand and Lutetia had cut out several magazine letters to build a threatening letter. 

No one wins at board games. 

“Maybe we should just call it a night for now!” Chekhov snapped. “This is our first night here and we’ve already had death threats and three kidnappings. There’s got to be a better way of doing this.” 

“Yes, you can admit defeat.” Lutetia pointed out while sliding the fifth death threat into Chekhov’s lap. 

“I think going to bed sounds lovely.” burbled Bobbi. “I don’t even know why I hit you with that pan, I think the game just did something to me.” 

“It’s fine, it happens. I should have remembered the Hungry Hungry Hippos incident of ‘05. We can start our classes tomorrow, get to know the routes round school and I’m sure we’ll be chatting then. We’ll just catch up between magic science… or magic maths… ok I really don’t know what to expect from this place.”

“Much as I hate to admit it he’s right. If I want to destroy you two in the world of academic social hierarchy I need all the sleep I can get.” Lutetia stood up, flipped the games table in one neat moment, pinning a student underneath, and wandered off to her bedroom.

“She’s a fucking delight isn’t she?” Chekhov drawled. 

“I’m sure she’s a sweet girl underneath.”

“Maybe we should both get some rest as well, lessons will probably be starting tomorrow and we’ll need to be sharp” 

“You’re right. How do we pick where we sleep?”

Lutetia picked up one of the girls dragging her suitcase to a room by the back of her shirt and tossed her back towards the main room. She slapped a sign with her name on the room she’d just snatched, then slapped a second, slightly more elaborately cute sign with Bobby’s name on the room next to hers, right on the end of the available spaces. She turned back to her companions, pointed to her own eyes, back to them, then went into the bedroom and slammed the door shut. 

“Well I guess that’s settled then.” Chekhov sighed. 

Bobbu felt tears prickling at her eyes. 

“Bibby, what’s the matter?” 

“No one ever gave me a sign that didn’t have ‘danger’ written on it before!” She cried, touched beyond belief. 

Chapter 9;

“We will now begin sorting you all into your class houses.” Madam von Wittgenstein said with a hard clap of her hands and a harder smack of the Janitor’s cheeks as he yelped in surprise.

“Form a line down the centre of the hall and we will begin the sorting.”

The students shuffled into lines, occasionally shoving each other out of the line in accordance with young people hierarchy.

Booby stood in front of Cropslock and Sheila, the three of them sticking close in the hopes that they would end up in the same house.

“Now that we have you all ready to go, Nursey! Bring us the Orb!”

The nurse bowed, turned to the side and then turned back holding a cushion with something round hidden under a cloth. The students in the hall held their breath, except for Steven, who had asthma.

The deputy head raised a hand for silence, then turned to the cushion and dramatically swept off the cloth to reveal the Orb in all its glory, all in black except for a white spot with the number 8 painted onto it.

“The orb!” Breathed the people, except Steven who puffed on his inhaler.

“You will come forward one at a time and we will sort you into your houses. Now, step forward…”

The sorting was done with speed, the kind that felt quick inside a school but incredibly slow everywhere else. By the time it came to Boby and her friends, the rich kids had been sorted into the “It is Certain” House, the mean girl’s friends had been sorted into ‘Don’t Count On It’ with the mean girl waiting at the back after being told to ‘Ask Again Later’.

Cripslock was next. “Don’t worry you two, we’ll blatantly get our own dorm where we can continue group shenanigans.”

“It is Certain.” Announced Madam Von Wittgenstein, waving Cripslock over to the rather startled rich kids.

“But… how… wait.” She reached into a pocket and pulled out a lottery ticket, showing her to now be a multi billionaire. “Well shit. Guess it’s just you two then.” And she went to join her filthy rich cohorts.

“Well damn,” Sheila said. “I didn’t know we could just walk off like that.” His hair turned into a leatherback turtle, equally confused.

“Sheila, you are in Don’t Count On It. Move quickly please, the chapter’s already half over.”

“Bye bitch.” Sheila tossed over his shoulder as he moved to join the mean girls.

“Surely I’ll join one of them.” Nobby said to herself as the closest in the line gave her funny looks. “There’s no way the narrative would introduce new characters as friends only to remove them in the same day.”

“And for miss…. Alright I've forgotten your name already so you're Slagathor now, Slagathor you're in the ‘Signs Point to Yes’ house, as is the girl trying to stab you just behind since she's the last one and I can't be bothered to shake this thing again.”

Bobbi looked at the mean girl behind her, then over at the others in the ‘Signs Point to Yes’ house. It seemed full of the most generically hot people of varying genders and ridiculously unlikely hair colours she'd ever seen. One of them raised her finger at her.

“This can't be right!” Snapped the mean girl, shoving Bobby aside with the strength of a girl who peaked in high school. “I'm supposed to be with my minions, I mean my friends. How could you put me in a dorm with a bunch of gods damned protagonists? That's insane! I'm an antagonist! I have a right to minions! Fuck it I'm owning that one!”

“Well there's an easy way to resolve this, headmaster? What do you think?”

“FRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOZEN LEMONS!!”

“There you have it. You're with the generics now. Enjoy having your personality thrust upon you.”

The antagonist turned protagonist gaped in horror, clearly not prepared for such an unknown moment. Her hair turned blue with silver streaks to support the staff's decision.

Boobi felt a wave of compassion smack her in the face, leaving an errant starfish clinging to her hair. She helped the mean girl to her feet and led her over to the new group they would be forced to interact with for the rest of the school year.

“I'm Bobby,” She told the mean girl turned protagonist. “It'll be OK, they can't force us into a story we don't want to join.”

“And Mr Chekhov, you're also in All Signs Point to Yes.” Came Madam Von Wittgenstein's voice.

“WHO?” Boiibi cried, whirling around and inadvertently throwing the mean girl into the stage.

“Hi Bobby, turns out I had magic too that was conveniently hidden from both of us until shortly after you left. I think.”

Her childhood friend stood there, looking mildly confused and very happy to see her. Several people eyed him with very interested gazes. One person took out her phone and got a shot of his butt while he wasn't looking.

“How did you even get here? You weren't on the train with me.”

“Well actually…. I don't know…”

“Oh. OK then.”

The mean girl limped back to the couple and leaned on Bobbt’s shoulder as she shook off the plaster that had fallen from the stage. “Who's this asshole?”

“Oh this is my childhood friend since forever, Chekhov. And this is…. Oh, I never did learn your name.”

“Well I didn't need one before now did I? I guess I'm Lutetia then! THANK you so VERY much!”

“Nice to meet you Lutetia… she seems nice….”

“I refuse to be nice, screw you both.”

“Well, it seems we're all dorming together.” Bibby said before anything else plot device-y happened. “I suppose we'll be split up into boys and girls next?”

“Obviously you will have co-ed common rooms,” Madam von Wittgenstein barked, having stepped back on stage with a single hop. “and your own individual bedrooms. Expecting everyone to be straight and completely sex averse at your age is either incredibly sheltered or beyond stupid. Either way, you have spells on your rooms that allow you to move and rescind invitations to anyone of your choosing, nursey will ensure contraceptives are available in each common room and you will be expected to keep them free of anything higher rated than PG. Try to avoid the biggest problem we face every year, I am of course referring to ants in the dorms. Eat food at the tables and clean up as much as you can after every meal, that same night! Anyone leaving dishes dirty will find them dropped on your bed. Is that understood?”

There was a murmur of assent from the students in the hall, some more excited than others. Not everyone had lived in a place that enforced clean roommate rules.

“Now that is settled, you'll each follow your head of house to your common rooms and from there to your bedrooms. You can decorate them as you see fit but the common rooms must remain neutral. No personal tastes allowed beyond what the school has seen fit to put there. Understood?”

Everyone nodded nervously, before turning to the now open doors separating the hall from the rest of the school.

The protagonists followed their house head, arms floating guy’s head with a torch held in his mouth as he floated ahead of the new students. “It's nice to meet you sir,” Bubby offered. “Will we be working with you this year?”

“Mmf foo fee i guh a forf is hy houf?” He grumbled back.

“I'll just let you work away.” Bobbt said as he floated on ahead.

“At least we'll have some time to talk in the common room.” Chekhov said as the head smacked his face into the door, demonstrating the secret knock to enter. “We have a lot to discuss and I don't think we should try and chat over the next bit of nonsense this place throws at us.”

The students trooper in to a cosy living room styled area, with a kitchenette to one side and every surface, wall and chair filled with posters, figurines and plushies of Hatsune Miku.

“I hate this place.” Chekhov sighed.

Chapter 8;

The students were herded into a large hall filled with tables branded with names like “Goths”, “Nerds” and “Mean but for story reasons kids”.

As soon as the last person was inside, the shepherd stopped herding and called his dogs away. The doors closed with an ominous thud and a less ominous chirp of the alarm setting. 

“Take your seats you horrible little lot!” Roared a large woman in an apron, wearing an eyepatch with a large scar across her face. She stomped behind the students, shooing them to their seats until she reached a quivering lump in the shape of one of the nerds, who was having a small panic attack at the loss of his home built computer.

“I'll handle this!” Snarled the huge woman, who lifted the boy with one hand by the scruff of his shirt and swung him into a chair. 

She pulled a weighted blanket from one pocket and draped it over his shoulders, pulled a flask of hot chocolate from another and poured him a cup then reached under her hair net and pulled out a handheld game device of no specific brand and passed it to him before patting his head gently and continuing on with her bellows of “Into your seats or it's student stew for dinner!!”

“She's scary!” Sheila said with a shudder.

“I don't know… there's something gentle about her.” Bobbt remarked. 

“You're weirder than either of us then.” Cripslock remarked as she put out a fire that started in her hair.

The students filed into their seats, set around five long tables. A few parents still fussed over their children, making sure they were settled, helping their nineteen year old’s shoes were tied, that kind of thing. 

A seven foot tall woman with features so sharp she could cut glass stood at the front of the hall, a dark cloak wrapped around her shoulders and eyes that suggested death would be preferable to pissing her off. 

“Students! Sit!” She snapped. Everyone sat, including three very confused parents. 

“We must now ask all parents to leave the premises.” She continued, with a look that suggested they were not asking and the hounds may be released if anyone dawdled. 

The few nearest the door broke into a run and shoved each other aside to be the first to get the house to themselves. Those who had more than one child living at home took their time saying goodbye, then waiting for the scrum to disperse.

“We are very glad to welcome all our students to the Mysterious School on the Edge of Town only Accessible by Train.” The tall woman continued. “I am deputy headmaster Aliandrea Von Wittgenstein, I will be presenting the first  of many…. Many presentations… on the subject of our school….” She began leaning round as she watched the last few parents leave. 

“Our school…. Which is on the edge of town… only accessible by train…. Very mysterious but completely normal…” The nurse slammed the doors shut and pulled down a long piece of wood to bar it. 

“Finally! Ok kids, listen up. This is a magic school, you’re all magic users, yes I know very surprising woo bloody hoo, shut up!” 

The hall had originally erupted into cries of shock, astonishment and a disbelief that they were really waiting this long for dinner to start. As soon as the deputy head barked out the last two words, everyone descended into silence, except for Cripslock who told the magical elf holding out a ring that she did not have time for a walking holiday right now thank you VERY much!

“We will now let you meet your headmaster, the greatest and most sharp minded of all wizards in our current times. Please welcome, Headmaster Lucifuga!”

The curtains behind her parted, revealing a man pressing a pair of small dolls against each other repeating “Mwah! Mwah! Mwah!” As soon as he noticed the expectant gazes of two hundred or so young adults staring at him, he shrieked, threw his dolls in the air and tried to hide behind a leaf. 

“The man’s a genius…” Madam von Wittgenstein murmured, gazing at the badly hidden man in awe. 

“Is this normal?” Bobby asked her friends. 

“How should I know? I’ve only been to three magic schools in my life.” Cripslock answered. 

“I only ever attended culinary school.” Sheila added, opening a fifth bar of chocolate as his hair wrapped itself into the shape of a ramen bowl. 

“We will now hear from the headmaster as he gives the welcome speech for this year’s class.” the deputy head finished, pushing the struggling headmaster gently into the centre of the stage. 

The older man quivered, staring at two places at once, before crying out “SOMEONE STOLE MY RAISINS!!” Then leaping away to scuttle into a side door, muttering about shoe polish. 

Madam von Wittgenstein clapped her hands and glared around the hall until everyone else joined in. 

“And now, dinner is served.” She called, snapping her fingers as several small creatures with big eyes carried in platters of food to place on the table. 

“Can you believe they got Tarsiers to serve us?” Sheila grinned, taking a roast chicken tray for a starter. “That’s how you know this place is really magical.”

“Animal slavery aside, I like that we might get to learn magic.” Cripslock agreed, lifting a tray to reveal an everything bagel, with everything in the universe sitting neatly upon it. 

“It certainly seems like it’ll be an interesting year.” Bobby finished, looking first at Jayce, who gazed back with adoration, then at the blonde girl who’d threatened her earlier, who stabbed her fish dish with her knife while staring back. 

“I just hope we don’t end up in some magical adventure that gets progressively darker every book.” 

“That’s stupid. What you just said is stupid.” Cripslock said, taking a bite of her bagel as her head exploded.

Chapter 7

The train to the Mysterious School on the Edge of Town Only Accessible by Train continued on its way, past backstory and family history that's probably a lot more interesting than this nonsense but you're not lucky enough to stumble onto those.

Bobby came to learn that her new friends and probably the only people she would have relevant discussions with through the rest of her school years were named Sheila and Cripslock Montague the fourteenth.

“I've never met a boy named Sheila before,” Bobbi remarked.

“And I've never met anyone whose name is spelled differently on every page. The world is just full of surprises I guess.”

“We should probably stick together.” Cripslock said from where she had finished recreating The Last Supper with modelling balloons. “I get the feeling other people will find us weird, so we should really form a clique now to make it seem more like a choice than a result of societal pressure leaving us very little choice at all.”

“You do make sense Cripslock,” Bobi nodded. “But shouldn't we remain friendly and open to show that we know a stranger is just a friend we haven't met yet? Or some other twee reasoning? I have several! “

The other girl shook her head as she consoled a modelling balloon having a minor breakdown after one of the balloons stole her pose. “We should probably be careful about making too many friends,  that'll just leave more people to keep track of and increase the chance that one of the side characters gets to perform the inevitable betrayal scene in later chapters.”

“I agree with whoever has snacks to share.” Sheila stated. His hair forming the shape of a candy bar in agreement. 

“Perhaps you're right.” Boffy sighed. “I just hope this school won't be too dangerous for ordinary folks like us with nothing remarkable about them.” 

“Speak for yourself,  I'm infinitely interesting.” Cripslock said as she stabbed a sword through a box containing a train conductor. 

The train that carried the new students to the Mysterious School on the Edge of Town Only Accessible by Train halted just beside the platform that led to the school entrance. A series of arrowed signs showed the way the students were expected to walk. 

Except for one sign held by a large gorilla with ‘Bananannas here’ scrawled on it in crayon. 

Bobby peered up at the impossibly tall turrets above her, then looked beyond them to the actual school which looked a lot more like a normal school building. 

“There it is, home for the next few books in this series.” Cripslock declared, dragging her steamer trunk.

“Do you really think it’ll last that long?” Sheila asked, obediently handing a bunch of bananas to the gorilla who put them in the back of his taxi and drove off. 

“God I hope not.” Cripslock retorted. 

The trio followed the groups of students, the goths in dramatic makeup, the jocks throwing various sporting equipment to each other and the chiropractors setting up their tables and yanking on people’s limbs already. 

Bibby lifted her head again to watch the clouds drift across the sky in a whimsical way, wondering what the future held, when she was slammed in the head with a cricket bat. 

“Damnit I am so sorry! Are you ok?” Cried a voice that promised good looks and perfectly waxed hair. An appropriate face came into view just ahead of a cloud that looked just like the signing of the Declaration of Independence. 

“Nature is beautiful…” Bobby whispered. 

“Are you concussed? Should we get a medic?” Cripslock asked, joining the strange guy’s face.

“Are you in need of food? I just don’t have anymore fruit.” Sheila said, adding his own face.

“Accidentes?” Asked a man in Spanish as he also joined the sea of faces and handed Bpbbi his business card. 

“No.. really, I’m fine.” She said as she took the card and sat up. 

“Sorry about that,” The strange guy said, standing in a way that perfectly thrust out his chiselled chest and caked up rear. “You know how it is, you’re a stereotypical athletic character and you just have to throw sports equipment around with your friends, you know?”

So saying, he tossed the cricket bat in the air and used a medicine ball in his other hand to smash it towards his friends. They were balancing a series of dumbbells at the time and shrieked as they landed in a mess on top of them all. 

“I’m Jayce Squatthrust.” He announced, turning back to Nobby and her friends, who helped her up. “It’s nice to meet you….” 

The trio stared at him. 

He stared back. 

Bobbi realised what he wanted. “OH! Sorry, I’m not going to sue.”

“Ok… good to know… is there any way I could get your name?”

“Oh yeah, I’m Sheila!” The man in question said, leaning forward and shaking Jayce’s hand. 

“Great. And the young lady?”

“Cripslock.” She said, pulling up a turnip with a human face from a patch on the side of the path. 

“And that just leaves….” 

“Sanchez, Hola!” Said the passing businessman pleasantly. 

“Great. Fantastic, but what’s YOUR name? This girl I am pointing to with the scarily generic face and hair, dressed in extremely demure cotton based fabrics. I want to know YOUR name!”

“I’m Bobby.. Pleased to meet you Jayce.” 

“Ok! Nice to meet you too Bobby, I hope we get to see more of each other soon.” 

Jayce turned and walked into the school along with his jock friends, who had begun building a hockey rink while they waited for him. 

“He’s very handsome isn’t he?” She asked. 

“Doesn’t look like he has many snacks.” Sheila responded. 

“He’s not that interesting either.” Cripslock added as she discovered proof of alien life. 

“He seemed nice,” Bubby continued. “I wonder if we’ll see him later on…”

“You’d better fucking NOT!” Came a voice from behind them. 

The trio turned to see a blond lady, skirt high and heels higher as she raced up the trail to catch up to her voice, panting a little before she continued. “You had better stay away from Jayce! He’s going to be MY boyfriend! We’re going to be prom king and queen and that will be the culmination of all my life’s goals because everyone knows life doesn’t continue after school. So you’d better just keep your generic and annoying eyes to yourself missy!” 

So saying, the blond girl stomped past the friends, shoulder checking Bobbt as she passed and then clotheslining her for good measure. 

“Come on girls!” She called over her shoulder, as two more girls tagged in and body slammed Boby’s friends, ensuring all three were sat in the dirt as the popular girls passed by.

“Gosh” Bibby gasped. “People here are simultaneously lovely and terrifying.” 

“That’s what you get when nuance isn’t required.” Cripslock said as she was licked clean by a unicorn. “Come on, let’s go find our dorms and get to orientation. I could see it having a lot of exposition waiting for us.”

Chapter 6

Chekhov sped through the TownCityHamlet, avoiding most of the traffic by driving through people’s homes as Boobu wept without destroying her makeup in the passenger seat. 

The train to the Mysterious School on the Edge of Town Only Accessible by Train was pulling in to the platform as they pulled in and Bobyy trotted over to her luggage where it had been left, creating a small bomb scare because that’s a dumb thing to do at a train station. 

“Oh Chekhov, this has been so horrible, but you’ve been there for me the whole time and now… Now I don’t know when I’ll see you ever again.” 

“Well, maybe now is the time to go ahead and do something you never thought you would before, tell me something you always wanted to tell me before you leave…. Just let it out Boobuy, tell me what's in your heart!” 

“Chekhov…. I….” 

The train, with all the timing of a sound designer being directed to honk a train horn at the exact right time, honked its horn. 

“I have to go…. I can’t wait any longer…” Boby grabbed her bag and someone’s dog passing by and threw them unceremoniously onto the train before hopping on herself, closing the door as the hiss of steam and several snakes someone had released filled the air. *

“Bobby, please! Tell me how you feel… just tell me now before you vanish from my life!”

Bobi leaned her head out of the window and bit her lip. The time for honest feelings was now.

“I thought I knew how I felt but… I just can’t hold it in anymore… you’re my best friend and you deserve to know!”

“Yes! Bobby, tell me!” Chekhov shouted as he started to chase the departing train, dodging luggage, people and snakes as he kept pace with the window. 

“Chekhov… I never cared for The Big Bang Theory…. It insists upon itself! I’m sorry!” 

Chekhov stopped in place, watching the train depart as Bobbbby waved. 

She could just hear, above the wind rushing past her ears, the dulcet tones of her best friend’s last words to her before school began.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Pulling her head back inside, Bobby shut the door, pushed aside the snakes, who had started a poker game with the kidnapped dog and headed to the passenger cars. 

There were several people filling the carriages, some talking, others looking over maps, still others forcing a confession from a man tied to a chair, typical school child things. 

Then she passed by a car filled with children dressed in gold drapes being fanned by slaves and fed grapes by the ticket inspectors. She opened the door hopefully. 

“Hello, I’m winningly naive and hopeful that someone might take pity on my whimsical nature enough to be my friend, I hope you’re all having the loveliest day!”

Three of the four children looked up with disgust. “Ew! What let that in here?” The first snorted. 

“Someone throw it a coin, just get rid of it.” Said the second. 

“I’m astonished that it thinks it can just go around saying stuff like that! Does it know how rude it sounds? Send it away!” The third Karen’d.

The fourth lifted a golden towel draped over it’s face, looked disdainfully over at Bouby and waved a regal hand. The slave attending him nodded and went to the door, stepping into the hall and gesturing to her. 

“Could you come out here a moment please?” They asked. Bobby stepped into the hallway with them and the slave bowed politely. “Thank you.”

The slave then stepped back into the carriage, shut the door and pulled down a blind with the words “NO RIFF RAFF, POORS OR LIBERALS ALLOWED!” written on it in gothic copperplate. 

She knocked on the door. “Does this refer to orphans as well?”

A second blind was pulled down with the word “YES” scribbled on it in Comic Sans this time. 

“Gosh, they must be very upset with me, I shall just try to be more friendly next time.” Bobby told herself. 

Walking a little further along, she found a carriage containing only two other people. She looked for signs blocking her out but only found one, declaring this to be the carriage for “NARRATIVELY IMPORTANT PEOPLE”. Shrugging, she decided to try her luck. 

“Hello, is it alright if I sit in here with you?” She asked. 

A boy with hair so messy it had taken on the shape of a shoebill stork peered over at her. “Uuuur, I don’t mind, as long as she doesn’t mind.” He gestured to the second person in the carriage. 

She was a young girl dressed in rainbow coloured clothes, with her bright red hair slicked into a spiked mohican and balancing several plates on sticks as the train rattled along. 

“If you can deal with my being such an obvious oddball and him being such a cliche of a scruffy dumb boy I suppose you can.” She said. 

“That’s fine, I’m Not Like Other Girls.” Bibby said, stepping inside. 

“Oh you poor thing.” The girl mourned, pulled her bag off of the seat to make room for Bubby to sit. She kicked her heels, which had cupcakes on the toes. “So, what’s your name, backstory, financial status? He’s a poor and I’m middle class so we aren’t allowed to mingle with the evil rich kids next door.”

“I think I’m a poor, but my family situation has always been a little mysterious… I can tell you my backstory if you like?”

“We’d better hear this while the narrative fades to black during the journey.” The boy said. “I feel like it’ll be a lot more dull than you’re indicating.”

Obediently, the narrative stretched to a bird’s eye view of the train that picked up speed through the countryside, before vanishing into the side of a hill.

Then it came out the other side, because that’s how train tracks work.

*Seriously who would put snakes on a train? It’s irresponsible is what it is.

Chapter 5;

Chekhov drove his non-specified car at lightning speed through the town, stopping only to pick up a new gun at the drive through and get a speeding fine on the way. 

“Darling Chekhov, I don’t know anyone in my life would be kind enough to do such a thing for me.” Bobby declared as she applied a dab of powder to her nose, which somehow made her look as though a makeup team had given her a subtle coat over her entire face. “You’ve been so good to me over the years, I don’t know how I can ever thank you!”

“I don’t need your thanks, I just need to know you’re happy.” Murmured Chekhov, gazing at her while they paused at a red light and completely missing the teens who plucked his new gun from its box in the back seat and drove away. 

“I’ll be happy when Bartholemew Von Actuallyanasshole finally sees me from across the room and realises how we’re supposed to be together. He’ll look at me, I’ll look at him, we’ll be pulled together like when I wear my special bra that squishes my boobs really close together. It’ll be magical!” 

“I bet it will, I bet he won’t trip and smash his nose on the floor, or have an unfortunate accident involving a skylight.”

“You are a big silly Chekhov!”

“Sure. Ha. Ha. Ha.” 

“I’m so glad we’ve arrived while talking in a way that leaves little need to describe the city or possibly town we’re living in. Maybe I should take this as a sign that all my dreams will come true tonight?”

“Yeah, probably. You know his last name is Actually an Asshole right? And I’m literally named Chekhov Boynextdoor?”

“I don’t see your point.” 

“Course you don’t… hey where’d my gun go?”

“Oh Chekhov! I don’t know if this night will be all I hoped for but… won’t you please come in with me? It’s custom that all girls must be accompanied by boys to maintain the understanding that a girl is a fragile, foolish thing that requires a manly, stoic slab of human meat to keep her in line. Won’t you please be my man meat for the night?”

“God I’d love it if you meant it.”

“What?”

“What? I mean, yes I’d be happy to escort you inside!” 

“Thank you Chekhov, maybe you can find a girl you like and want to protect in a manly fashion when we step inside?”

“Maybe I can find a new gun and make sure of it.” 

The doors were opened to reveal a large hall filled with teens who looked like they were in their twenties. The music was generic in a way that wouldn’t result in copyright issues and the high school cliques were scattered across the dance floor. 

The principal yelled at everyone to get up off the floor and the dancing continued as Chekhov and Bobby walked in. 

“Look! There he is, isn’t he a marvellous looking man?”

Bobby pointed to a six foot tall man with jagged cheekbones, a sculpted nose and long hair that waved in a wind created by the fan he forced his dance partner to hold. He made sure to dance with someone short enough that he could see over her head to all the admiring glances from potentially prettier women on the dance floor. 

“Isn’t he a dream?” Bobby breathed, all her good sense destroyed by hormones like a retail worker in a rage room. 

“I’ve definitely had dreams he could have featured in, yes.” Chekhov replied. 

Bobby walked forward as if in a very horny trance and approached the dancing couple. 

“May I have this dance?” She asked as soon as she was close enough to be seen over Bartholemew’s date’s head. 

“I think the principal set this one up, you’d have to ask him.” Bartholomew said with barely a glance at our busty heroine. “But I’ll dance with you first if you tell me how pretty I am.” 

“Oh yes, yes please! I’m so lucky!” Bobby took the fan from the nameless girl, who rushed off to find a better narrative structure to hide out in. 

Bartholomew and Bobbi pranced around the hall, hopping smartly over hurdles, through the tunnel and between the weave poles to get a score of 8.5, the best in show.

“Oh Barty, I’m so very happy.” Bobby sighed against his granite chest, trying to ignore the thought that most humans have flesh there. 

“Yeah, could you get me a generic cola drink? I’m really thirsty.” Bartholomew said, already wiping his handkerchief over any spot she’d touched. 

“I’ve had such a lovely time, of course I’ll get you a drink, but then I must go… you see I’m being forced to attend the Mysterious School on the Edge of Town Only Accessible by Train soon. May I please have your number that we might stay in touch and continue this wonderful time?”

Bartholomew looked down at her past his chiselled bone structure.  “Ew. No.” 

Immediately, the hall erupted with the laughter of dozens of people with nothing better to look at and a dozen phones filmed the moment as a group of girls threw a bucket of aardvark blood (donated only, we’re not monsters here) over Bobby’s lovely and generic head. 

Utterly humiliated and now craving black pudding, Bobby raced for the doors, just coming in second by a nose. 

She leapt into the car, Chekhov close behind and the two drove off as the sounds of mean teen laughter filled the air along with several bugs attracted by the lights outside. Somewhere, a seagull coughed.

Chapter 4-

The next day was the day of the prom which would take place that night. 

Prologue-Exclusive School for Pointless People had been preparing all year, most of the work falling to Bobby who didn’t have the good looks of the popular girls and no defining features like the nerdy girls. 

Despite all this, Boobbu was thrust into the smoky haze of the ‘Mysterious School on the Edge of Town Only Accessible by Train’ train. 

“Please mama! Let me just see the dance once! I shall be able to go to the Mysterious School on the Edge of Town Only Accessible by Train for the rest of my life if only I can have that one moment!” 

“No. Piss off.” Her mother stated, holding her son on the end of a leash as he fought a rabid raccoon for half a croissant. 

“We’ll expect you back at the end of the school year, which will somehow take several chapters to get through. In the meantime, I’m turning your room into a bar and grill.”

“But I’m a mormon vegetarian!” Bobby cried. 

“Sucks to be you.” Her mother said with barely a flicker of emotion, the botox having erased all her facial expressions. She spun round, then turned away and walked back towards the house, towing her son as he thrashed and foamed at the mouth. 

“Oh I shall miss my beloved family!” Bobby mourned as she posed dramatically in the train smoke, a homeless man vomiting on the rabid raccoon behind her in equally dramatic fashion. 

“Fear not fair maiden!” Cried a manly voice behind her. 

Bobby turned to see a man dressed as King Lear speaking to the raccoon as he lifted it away from the vomit riddled waterfall. “Your knight in theatre provided armour has come to rescue you my lady!” He leaned down for a kiss and his nose was promptly eaten. 

“How I wish I was that raccoon…” Bibby swooned, her stomach rumbling. 

“I’m here for you Bobby!” Cried a more familiar voice. She turned again to see Chekhov, standing with a new gun in a manly pose.

“Oh. Hello Chekhov, I’m just mourning the fact that I cannot go to the Dumpster Fire dance and must instead begin my studies at the Mysterious School on the Edge of Town Only Accessible by Train today. I couldn’t possibly make out passionately with you in a friends only way now.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Chekhov said dramatically, throwing his arms wide and accidentally throwing his gun onto the tracks where it was snatched up by a  marauding gang of rats who disappeared with it, intent on a coup against the buffet car.

“Shit, I borrowed that from my aunt. Anyway, Boobs! I came to take you to the Dumpster Fire Dance before you have to catch your train to the Mysterious School on the Edge of Town Only Accessible by Train. We can go, you can see how your hard work paid off and we’ll have time for one romantic dance and maybe make out like that raccoon and the weird theatre guy are and then we can arrive back here in time for your train!” 

“Gasp! Chekhov, you truly are a great friend! Offering to let me see the dance and nothing else!”

“Yeah, ok. Sure.” 

“You’re right, I only have one chance… let’s go!” 

Chapter 3-

She watched the clothes spinning round and ignored her mother calling “Booby! We need to get dinner started, get up here!”

Her boyfriend had left her to start sleeping with horses in a strange beastiality based madness and she had lost all feeling inher thumbs!

Bobby breasted boobily up the stairs and titted to her seat, her petite vulva taking up space neatly upon the chair.

“You’re so lame!” Shrieked her little brother Toby, throwing a glutinous glob of mashed potatoes in a trebuchet arc at her head.

“Sticks and stones may break my bojes but words shall never hirt me!” Bobby declared, looking beatifically upon her sibling, who shrieked himself into flames.

“Stop mentally destroying your broher.” Bobby’s mother said, placing a plate in front of her buxom daighter, whose form none could deny, was banging.

This made mealtimes particularly awkward for her parents who often threatened to throw her prom dress in to the river.

“Eat your raisins and screws, you have a meeting with the school later” she continued.

“Oh mama!” Gasped Boobby solemnly. “I cannot possibly change schools, I just finished setting up the school hall for the dumpster fire dance!”

“Wicked child!” Snorted her mother, who slapped her daughter with a plate of scrambled eggs. “You shall live in the hen house for this! Begone from my sight after you’ve cleaned up the mess from breakfast and done my taxes!”

Bobby mournfully began her tasks with a single tear balancing on her eyelashes, like a really fat, wet tightrope walker.

She entered the attic, that was cruelly smaller on the inside than the rest of the house, and came upon her best friend Chekhov, who casually cleaned his gun like a really irresponsible bastard who was nevertheless really really attractive by virtue of not giving a fuck.

“I don’t give a fuck,” He ejaculated. “But you need to move out considering you’re nineteen. That’s almost into old maid territory, have you considered marriage to anyone, anyone at all? Not me because your face looks like vomit. Unless..?”

Bobby threw herself onto the bed, but not before tossing Chekhov an RKO out of nowhere since she was Not Like Other Girls and knew what WCW wrestling was.

“Oh Chekhov! I must change schools and go somewhere completely new, when shall I see the results of my work at the Dumpster Fire Dance? Who will dance with the magically delicious Bartholemew Von Actuallyanasshole? I’m sure he’d love me if only I could improve my magnificent bosoms!”

Chekhov uncurved his spine from the floor and retrieved his gun once again. “Ow bollocks that hurt! You should just make a statement, like a big, bold statement like…. Bobby I’m secretly in love with you!”

“Oh you are a big silly Chekhov, using ridiculously unlikely humour to amuse me, put that gun away and spoon me innocently for a while as I caress your buttocks. Also remember I think of you as an asexual blob.”

“Of course Bobby. You’re too amazingly beautiful and gorgeous for me to ignore, especially considering your frankly fantastic crepe paper personality.”

The gun fell through a crack in the floorboards and disappeared for the rest of the story because fuck you that’s why.

Chapter 2-