Average Joe and the Extraordinaires (11 page)

Chapter
21

Zero Tolerance

The
morning had come and gone.  Joe was so tired that he had slept through first
hour Spanish, second hour history, and most of third hour English.  The English
teacher, Mrs. Lane, hadn’t taken a liking to that.  She decided to send Joe to
the principal to discuss why he was so sleepy, which Joe hadn’t taken a liking
to.

He walked
the halls to get to the principal’s office, and bumped into Fleez and Dozz as
they were wandering the halls, to no place in particular it seemed.  Today,
both wore maroon vests with their “names” on the back under a logo of a skull
with a snake slithering through the mouth and hissing from the eye socket. 
Above the logo were the words “Badd Azz.”  Both wore headbands: Fleez with a
zebra print and Dozz’s brown to match his pants.  Both grinned at Joe as he
went to pass them.

Fleez:
“What about today, Joe?  It’s an awfully good day to be a Badd Azz, but then
again, what day isn’t?”

Joe shook
his head and kept walking.  He hoped they wouldn’t trouble him or Mod at lunch,
but knew better than to expect it.

Fleez:
“See you at lunch, then.”

He smiled
when he said that, and Dozz giggled.  Joe could only wonder and fear what they
had planned next.

He made
it quickly to principal Patrias’ office after deciding not to waste any more
time.  He had to sit in the waiting seats while the principal finished a
conference with a teacher and a parent.  He had heard yelling, but eventually
it was over and a red-faced parent, a bored and annoyed-looking student, and a
teary-eyed Ms. Grobino emerged.  The principal had a few words with her and
patted her on the shoulder.  She went on her way, wiping away tears with the
back of her hand.  The principal noticed Joe and smiled at him like an old
friend.  He and Joe were anything but old friends.

Mr.
Patrias: “Joe!  Come on in.  We have a lot to talk about, young man.”

The words
“a lot” confused Joe.  It was a stretch to say they had even a little to talk
about, much less a lot.  He walked into the office all the same and watched as
the principal closed the door behind himself.  He looked over to the
principal’s desk and the ornate nameplate caught his eye.  It was wrought in
pure gold and indented with a tiny golden signature that neatly spelled out
“Principal William Patrias.” 

The
principal’s heels clicked loudly against the floor tiles and led Joe to stare
at the man’s shoes.  They were white dress shoes with black heels.  In a way
they did match his green suit, but none of it looked quite right.  Joe marveled
at the man’s tiny feet and thought they could’ve easily been confused for
tic-tacs in those shoes.  Joe remembered comparing his feet with Principal
Patrias’ back when they were teacher and student.  Though Patrias’ used to be
bigger, it wasn’t by that much, and that was in comparison to a third grader.

Mr.
Patrias: “Come, Joe.  Sit sit!  There’s no reason to stand uncomfortably,
you’re not in trouble.”

Joe
walked to the desk and took his seat across from the principal in silence.  He
sat and waited for another prompt from the principal.  He honestly had no clue
as to why he was here, especially if he wasn’t in any trouble.

Mr.
Patrias: “You know how long I’ve been principal of this school, Joe?”

Joe
didn’t remember the precise number of days it had been, but knew Patrias had
been principal of Orangetown High since he was in middle school.

Joe: “A
couple of years.”

The
principal smiled and let out a laugh.

Mr.
Patrias: “Yes, quite a few years now, and to think I started all of this off as
a teacher — your teacher, even.”

He
laughed again and shook his head.  He smiled widely whilst staring right at
Joe.

Mr.
Patrias: “Yes, it’s been a wild ride for me, but I’m glad for it.”

He
adjusted his glasses and stared off to his left in some type of reverie.

Mr.
Patrias: “I remember back when you were my student and I assigned you those
weekly take-home tests.  You always got C’s, or if you were really lucky, a B
every so often.  I thought for the longest time that that was all you were
capable of, but I used to think you would pull an A out of your magic hat on
one of my big tests—somehow, maybe just to spite me.  The average teacher would
assume that you had cheated. Not me, though. I never thought that.  I saw
something more in you, as I do with all my students.  Remember what I told you
the last time you showed me an A?”

The
principal continued to smile.  Joe had forgotten many things since those days,
but never the principal’s words.

Joe: “You
told me that if I didn’t change all those C’s and B’s to A’s that you’d fail
me.”

Patrias’
grin was huge now and he let out an elfish giggle.

Mr.
Patrias: “I saw your potential and challenged you to see if you’d meet it.  You
remember how that ended?”

How could
I forget?
Joe thought.

Joe: “You
failed me, even though I should’ve passed.  I did all of my work and only got
one D and never any F’s.”

Mr.
Patrias: “Everything you say is true.  You opened my eyes so many years ago,
Joe.  Those A’s you got showed me that you were capable of much more than your
usual average grades.  It changed my whole outlook.  Kids need to be challenged
to unlock their greatness, and kids that achieve lower than expected can be
given the necessary help to improve.  However, students that toe the line and
play it safe with grades that are just good enough to get by are the bad seeds
of the bunch.”

He
extended his hand to Joe.  Joe looked at it quizzically

Joe:
“What for?”

Mr.
Patrias: “I must thank you for teaching me such a valuable lesson early on. 
That lesson has fueled my life.  It has helped me improve the testing grades
for all the classes that I taught since then, and the school’s overall scores
of achievement as well.  We are as good as we are partially thanks to you.”

Joe shook
the principal’s hand uneasily.  A few moments passed in silence.  During the
silence the principal’s smile had faded.  He snapped his fingers loudly and
suddenly Joe was wide-awake and alert.  The principal looked oddly confused at
first, and then suddenly disappointed.

Mr.
Patrias: “This school is what it is thanks to my hard work.  I only want to
improve our test scores even more, and make Orangetown High even better than it
is right now.  To that end, Joe, you’re in my way and I can’t tolerate that.”

Joe
squirmed in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable.

Joe: “I’m
trying my best, Mr. Patrias.”

Mr
Patrias: “Yes, and it’s simply not good enough.  I need huge improvements from
you, Joe.  Since you’ve done so much for me and for this school, I felt it
would be fair for you to be the first to learn about Operation Zero Tolerance:
zero tolerance for horseplay, zero tolerance for academic distraction, and zero
tolerance for those who don’t need to be here, those who aren’t striving for
greatness.  In a word: you.”

Joe
didn’t know what to say, only that what was going on wasn’t right.

Joe:
“That’s not fair!”

Mr.
Patrias: “And what is fair, Joe?  Hmm?  Is it fair that a student with no
talent or dedication to anything is the talk of the town and country, while
other, far more intelligent, athletic, and talented kids are overlooked and go
unnoticed?  The world has a bad way of rewarding those who aren’t worthy.  That
just won’t fly while I’m principal.  I won’t allow you to continue to tarnish
the Orangetown name.”

Joe
suddenly rose from his seat and looked the principal dead in his face.

Joe:
“I’ll just have to get better grades, then.”

Patrias
smiled smugly.

Mr.
Patrias: “If that’s possible, then do it.  Either way it’s a win-win situation
for me.  You keep up with more of the same and you’re out of here.  If you get
better grades, then our overall scores improve.  Choose wisely.  You’re excused
now.”

Joe
walked to the door and twisted the handle.  Before he could leave, Patrias
called out to him.

Patrias:
“And Joe … if I catch you sleeping in class again, you’re suspended.”

Wonderful.

Chapter
22

The
Dating Game

Joe’s
meeting with Principal Patrias had gone much worse than expected.  He was now
the principal’s target, and the principal wanted him gone.  One good thing was
accomplished because of the meeting though.  It had taken up so much time that
Joe’s English class had ended and it was now time for lunch, or rather Fleez
and Dozz happy hour.  He didn’t think he could stomach whatever cruel game they
had planned for today.  He wanted to skip lunch altogether, but he was hungry,
and if he was going to stay awake in class he’d need a lot more energy.  Most
of all, he needed to be there for Mod.

Once he
grabbed his lunch and strolled to his usual seat, he saw no sign of Mod. 
That’s
mighty smart of him
, thought Joe.  No sign of Fleez and Dozz either, and
that lifted the weight from the pit of Joe’s stomach.  He was able to eat half
his lunch of ravioli and steamed buttery broccoli, which wasn’t half as bad as
it looked.

Fleez and
Dozz walked in theatrically about twenty minutes later.  They looked sad and
sullen, but in an overacted sort of way.  They joined Joe near his mostly empty
table and gave him more of their sad and piteous looks.  Joe tried, but failed
to ignore them. 
Mod isn’t here, so what will they do
? he wondered. 
There were a few other kids to pick on at the table, but Joe couldn’t really
call them his friends.  Maybe Fleez and Dozz would actually direct their wrath
towards him.  Joe would welcome it, since he was the one deserving of it
anyway. 
Maybe I should just join their stupid club
, he thought.

Fleez:
“Excuse me, all, if I could get your attention!  Womenfolk and gentler men, all
eyes over here!”

It was
another performance and it made Joe uneasy.

Fleez:
“Well, it seems that even though we put on a great show yesterday, our
red-headed guest wants no part in the joy that we bring to the masses, to our
loving fans and subjects.  We have been searching for him since this lunch hour—which
is also his lunch hour—began.”

Again,
they poured on the fake sadness.

Dozz:
“Unfortunately, the show for today is cancelled…”

Boos
echoed throughout the lunchroom.

Fleez:
“Is what Dozz would’ve said if I didn’t have our loyal minion, Byron
rox-yer-sox, marching Mod to this very lunchroom.”

Cheers
rang out louder than the boos this time.  Mr. Serano was nowhere in sight to
even keep the noise level in check.  Fleez smiled like a madman and took a
bow.  He rose and took another one on his other side.

Mod was
brought in and didn’t seem to be offering any resistance to his captor, the
humanoid gorilla, Byron.  Byron was roughly the size of three Mods put
together, not in height, but in stone weight.  He was taller than Mod, but one
really couldn’t say he had anything but average height.  His arms, legs, head,
and belly were all wide.  He had a head full of dark brown hair that had likely
not come into contact with a comb in some time.  His black eyes were small and
beady, but looked even smaller hidden behind the excess of his fleshy cheeks
and brow.  He escorted Mod to where Fleez and Dozz were standing.  Once they
arrived, the kids cheered louder.

Fleez:
“Now that the gang’s here, how about a bit of history, kids?  We can actually
thank good old Joe for all this fun.  These great lunchroom games are a direct
cause of him deciding not to join team Badd Azz.  Let’s have a big round of
applause for Joe.  I think he likes this more than all of us.”

The kids
of the lunchroom applauded and Fleez savored the moment.  He grinned and
motioned for Byron to bring Mod over.

Fleez:
“Hiya, Modrick!  Sorry for your loss.”

Mod:
“What loss?”

Fleez:
“The loss of your dignity yesterday.  That must’ve stung the ol’ ego, aye?  It
got a little out of hand, I’ll admit, and the mess we caused was catastrophic. 
How long did it take you to clean all that pukeball crud up?”

Joe
noticed that Mod looked like he was suppressing a grin.  Fleez noticed as well,
and seemed surprised by it.

Mod: “Not
long.  As you can see I’m looking and smelling very clean today.”

Fleez:
“That’s good.  Yesterday Dozz and I were just having a bit of fun.  Today is
serious business though.  You see, Modrick, we want to help you.”

Mod's
near grin was replaced by shock and confusion.  Something about the way Fleez
said that made Mod uneasy.  Fleez turned his attention from Mod to the crowd.

Fleez:
“We’re here today to help this poor soul find happiness.”

Neither
Mod nor Joe knew what the heck to expect next.

Fleez:
“So, Mod, let’s take a little time to get to know you.  Sure, we bonded a bunch
yesterday, but we still need to learn the particulars.  Now, I’ve been told
that your parents are from a land called Limeyville, where they have Lobsterbacks”

Mod:
“Yeah, but I was born in the States”

Fleez:
“Tsk tsk tsk, Modrick.  Mind your manners now.  You should never interrupt a
man when he’s talking.  Haven’t your Limey parents taught you that?  Now,
you’ve been in Orangetown a while, but no one knows who you are.  That’s pretty
sad, pal.”

The crowd
reacted with an audible round of “Awww,” as if they were the audience in some
nineties’ sitcom.  That stung at Mod a bit, Joe could tell.

Fleez:
“That’s okay, though.  That’s why Dozz and I are here — oh, and Byron too —
sorry Byron!  We’re gonna hook you up, man.  Big time.  Aint that right, boys?”

Dozz and
Byron nodded their heads.  Both were smirking and clearly enjoying the
spectacle.

Fleez:
“Now, Dozz, would you care to explain the rules of our hook-up challenge?”

Dozz:
“Certainly, Fleez.  You see there’s a science and an art to hooking up.  The
theory is that men and women attract studs and studesses that are as hot and
rich as themselves.  We call this a person’s ‘league.’”

He used
air quotes every time he said the word “league.”

Dozz:
“Whenever you fellas see a girl too hot for you and you walk away: that’s you
recognizing that she’s out of your ‘league’ and you walk away to protect
yourself from soul-crushing rejection.  So, with that in mind, we’ve compiled a
list of Mod’s traits and have calculated which girls are in his ‘league.’  I’m
happy to say that we’ve found a match.”

Fleez:
“Yes, indeed we have, folks, but we can’t have our bachelor seeing her before
he gets to know her.  We here at Badd Azz Hook-ups pride ourselves on helping
others find deeper connections that go beyond physical attraction.  And so ... we
will blindfold our bachelor as he and our bachelorette get to know one
another.  So bachelorette number one, MBH, please come on down.”

As she
rose from her seat, Joe recognized MBH as Meribeth Hilday.  She was a freshman
like Mod, but Joe knew her from middle school and elementary school.  She used
to be very spirited and rambunctious and full of jokes, but had mellowed over
the years into the quiet and timid girl that she was now.  As she walked over
to team Badd Azz, she was visibly nervous.  They pulled chairs for both of them
and sat her back-to-back with Mod.  She looked at Fleez sheepishly, and waited
for whatever he had planned for her.  Fleez himself flashed her a big grin and
winked at her.  The crowd laughed when she sat down, and that seemed to make
her more self-conscious. 

She
wasn’t what you’d call a small girl, but Joe thought it was wrong to call her
fat, not morally wrong but logically wrong.  She was reasonably tall, just
under Kate, but had a much thicker waistline, thicker arms and legs, along with
wider hips.  She had a squat sort of shape to her, which made her look much
bigger than what she was, along with a humongous set of breasts and a big round
butt.  Her sandy blonde hair was always tied into a knot or a ponytail, she had
a large hooked nose on her face, and her eyes had a dark brown look to them. 
Though she wasn’t the standard type of “beautiful girl” that the region was
known for, Joe still found her to be attractive.  The only major turn-off that
he could find was the outbreak of acne that pocked her face with a multitude of
tiny red dots.  She was cute elsewise.

Joe was
confused as to why she was humoring these two. 
Is it something as simple as
fear
, he wondered.

Fleez:
“Now we shall help the love birds get to know one another.  Mod’s gonna be in
for a HUGE surprise.”

The crowd
laughed at that, and Meribeth flushed red.

Fleez:
“Now, Dozz, take it away with the introductions.”

Dozz:
“Will do, Fleez!  First we have our very lovely bachelorette here who loves
moonlit walks to KFC and Dairy Queen, except without the walking.  Her favorite
place to shop is the dollar menu, and not because she likes to save money — no,
it’s because she lives by the motto: “Quantity over quality.”  Her favorite
physical activity is something exotic called no-nay.  Whoops, sorry!  I believe
I have mispronounced that, her favorite physical activity is actually “none.” Yes,
none, folks.  Dislikes for her include cooking — because there’s a wait
involved — and not being loved.  Her favorite date spot is the drive-in, which
is pretty romantic — whoops again!  I misread that.  It looks like her favorite
date spot is actually the drive thru.  It doesn’t specify which one, so I
assume that means any and possibly all drive thrus.  What a catch!  She doesn’t
discriminate and is easy to please.  On Saturday nights she likes to splash
around wearing the bikini that she bought for that special day when she’d make
some friends and they could all hang out by the pool.  Hey, we all have our
dreams. Stop laughing!  She also spends most of Saturday pretending to play
slurpy-face with rad boys, especially ones with rad red hair.  What a catch,
aye guys?”

Hoots,
laughs, and whistles came from the crowd, along with a bit of foot stamping and
there was still no sign of Mr. Serano or even Mr. Zero Tolerance Patrias.  The
faculty picked the wrong time to decide not to do their jobs.  Joe had seen
enough.  He walked up to Fleez and asked him to end it.

Fleez:
“It’s out of my hands, Joe-bro.  This is Dozz’s show now.”

Dozz was
too busy reveling in this spectacle to notice Joe.

Dozz:
“Now for the man of the hour.  The down-on-his-luck bachelor, Modicum
Malington.”

Cheers
erupted from the crowd, and Joe could swear that he saw the beginnings of a
smile cross Mod’s face.  Joe himself was feeling embarrassed, and he wasn’t the
one being humiliated.  How could Mod even slightly enjoy this?

Dozz:
“Now Modicum’s likes include pretending to be Ronald Weasley, wishing he was
Fleez and Dozz and sometimes Byron, girls he can’t have, and an unreachable
popularity status.  His dislikes include himself, life, not feasting on souls,
you, his haircut, his evil soulless ginger body, and having friends that won’t
join team Badd Azz.  His favorite date spot is his mom and dad’s room cuz
that’s where all the magic happens.  On his Saturday nights, he likes to make
out with his elbows, which is a talent really.  You ever try that?  It’s very
difficult to do.  He also builds Taylor Swift idols with his Lego collection,
prays for popularity, and watches whole seasons of
Glee
that he’s
personally recorded and sings to.  What insane girl here doesn’t want to friend-zone
that?”

A roar of
laughter went up from around the lunchroom.  That was it, Joe had to get him
out of there.  He left Fleez where he stood laughing and walked towards Mod’s
chair.  He looked to his right and saw Kate stomping towards the scene just like
yesterday, except this time much angrier.  She looked at Joe with murder in her
eyes, shook her head, and grabbed her brother by the arm, pulling him from the
chair and removing his blindfold.

Kate:
“What are you doing?  Get up!”

Dozz:
“Hey, chicky!  We were in the middle of a hook-up here.”

Kate:
“You two can do that just fine without my brother.  Let’s go, Mod!”

She
pulled and he followed.  Joe ran after them this time.  Boos reverberated
around the lunchroom as they dashed towards the exit.

Fleez: “It
looks like big sister red didn’t approve of you, Meribeth, and if she doesn’t
approve then we don’t approve.  Sorry, Meribeth, but it looks like you’ve been
dumped before you even got to go on a date.  Harsh.”

“Awwww,”
offered the crowd.

Fleez:
“Now that was…”

Fleez and
Dozz: “Off the hook!”

Joe
looked back just in time to see Meribeth Hilday break down into tears.