DAAS go back to school
challenge requirements:
Starring: DAAS
Location: School
Time: Sunday 21st June 2000, 1.37am
Words & stuff: finger, mask, puppet, paperweight, calculator, mom, lightbulb
Phrase: "I'm too heavy, you try"
"Come on Rich, push!"
"I am pushing!"
"Push harder! Come on! Yes! Yes! Harder! I'm getting close! Arrggghh!!!" Paul thumped loudly to the floor and landed flat on his arse, gasping for breath. He climbed to his feet and then poked his head out the window. "Okay, who's next?"
"How many gay men does it take to change a lightbulb? Three. One to screw in an Art Deco bulb and two to shriek, 'Faaaabulous!'"
"Pull your finger out of your arse Ferguson. Now give me your hand. Good. Okay Rich, got him? Push!" Paul pulled and Rich pushed and eventually Tim flopped down onto the floor beside Paul. "Get up fuckwit." Tim stayed where he was. Paul let out an exasperated sigh before reaching out the window for Richard. Tim stood up and looked out the window. He burst out laughing when he saw them struggling to get Rich in the window without having much success.
"I'm too heavy, you try Tim!"
"How many politicians does it take to change a lightbulb? Two. One to change it, and another to change it back again." Tim reached out and grabbed Richard's arms, effortlessly pulling him up over the windowsill, Rich landing on his feet.
"Oh wow! A puppet theatre!" Rich ran over and grabbed a puppet in each hand. He began walking them across the tiny stage and making funny voices. Paul rolled his eyes and looked around the room. He grinned and grabbed something off a table.
"Hey Rich?"
"Yeah?"
"BLLUUURRRGGGHHIIIIEEEEOOOO!!!!" Paul shook his head around and clawed the air like a wild animal.
"Aaaaarrgghhhh!!!!" Richard dropped the puppets and hid behind the miniature stage.
"Hey, settle Rich, it's only a mask!" Paul pulled it off and pissed himself laughing at the terrified look still plastered on his mate's face as he peeked out from behind the box.
"How many blondes does it take to change a lightbulb? Hundreds. One to hold the bulb, and the rest to turn the house." Tim began searching through the cupboards lining the walls, dancing around like an idiot at the same time.
"Fuck you Paul!"
"Not right now mate, bad timing. But thanks for the offer anyway."
"Why you!" A paperweight flew at Paul's head and he ducked it. It hurtled straight through the window with a shattering crash. Glass flew in all directions, covering the carpet and the ground outside as well with the tiny shards.
"You dick Richard! Look what you did!"
"I thought that's what we were here for?"
"Well�er�it is�JUST NOT SO LOUDLY NEXT TIME, OKAY!?" Paul turned back to Tim, who sent him a goofy grin from where he was bouncing away happily with a skipping rope he'd found.
"How many nechrophiliacs does it take to change a lightbulb? None. Nechrophiliacs prefer dead bulbs."
"Look will you both just SHUT UP! You're giving me a fucking headache! Now let's get on with it."
"I still don't see why you want to do this."
"Look, it has to be here somewhere." Paul began to rummage through the filing cabinet in the corner
"How many seventies disco dancers does it take to change a lightbulb? Two. One to boogie up the ladder and one to say, 'Get daaowwwn!'"
"But why would you bother?"
"It's important to me, okay?" Paul paused and looked at his friend. "Rich, what are you doing?"
"What does it look like?" Paul looked over Richard's shoulder and smiled. He had drawn a huge bum on the blackboard and written 'Tim's arse' with an arrow pointing to it. He put in a few finishing touches and then stood back. "How's that?"
"I think it's missing something there mate."
"Oh right." Richard stuck his tongue out as he wrote some more on the board, then stepped back again. Paul sniggered. Rich had written 'HELP ME' across the two cheeks. He leant in closer and could make out 'Richard woz ere' on one cheek. He giggled as Rich wordlessly handed him the piece of chalk. He stepped forward and wrote 'By Paul aged 5' in kiddy writing on the opposite cheek.
"Perfect." The two men shared a smile. Paul sighed reminiscently and then turned back to the task at hand.
"Come on, we have to hurry and get out of here. It'll be daylight soon." Paul slid out the drawer of the teacher's desk. "A-ha! Found it!"
"How many mom's does it take to change a lightbulb? None. She always gets dad to do it."
"Tim, that wasn't funny." Rich shook his head.
"No, but this is. The police have just pulled up." Tim grinned proudly. Paul ran over to the window.
"SHIIIITTT!!! Run! They'll be here any minute!"
"But - but Paul! The�"
"Shut up Rich, there's no time. Come on, help me down." Already Paul was sitting on the windowsill and the other two quickly lowered him out the window before following immediately after him. They ran out of the school-grounds and down the road, only slowing when they were walking up the steps to Paul's apartment.
"Shit Paul, did we have to run for that long? We're not as young as we used to be." Rich flopped onto the floor in the middle of the lounge room, puffing breathlessly. Tim and Paul dropped to the floor beside him.
"Shut up Rich, go to sleep." Within moments Richard did as he was told, his deep nasal baritone snore rumbling out like an earthquake. It was enough to wake any sane person, but it didn't bother Tim and Paul; they were already dead to the world.
The three men were interrupted from their slumber by a pounding on the front door. Richard let out a loud snort of disgust and Tim yawned, squinting into the morning sunlight that was streaming in the window.
"Fuck off!" Paul rolled over and wrapped an arm around Tim's waist. The knocking persisted, this time with a voice to accompany it.
"Mr. McDermott, if you wouldn't mind coming to the door please?"
"Who is it?"
"Constable Holden Testeagles." All three men instantly sat bolt upright.
"They couldn't know, could they?" Paul got to his feet and paced up and down the room a couple of times.
"Paul, they�"
"Shut up Richard. No, they couldn't know. Okay, we'll just stay calm and act normal. Don't go all freaky on me Ferguson. Try to act human for once, okay? Good."
"But Paul, we�"
"Shut up Richard!!!" Paul scowled at him and then opened the door, plastering a sweet smile on his face. "Why hello Constable, to what do we have the honour of your visit this fine day?" Tim and Rich came to stand behind their friend.
"Mr. McDermott?"
"Yes?"
"Mr. Fidler and Mr. Ferguson?"
"Yes?" Richard frowned.
"We have evidence to believe that this morning at precisely 1.37am you broke into St. Mitchell's Primary School and vandalized the Grade 6 classroom."
"Wh-what are you talking about? I would never do a thing like that!"
"Paul, I've been�"
"SHUT UP RICHARD!!! There must be some mistake. We were in all night last night."
"We have evidence Mr. McDermott." The man gave him a knowing look. "You wrote on the blackboard, literally stating who you were."
"Shit, why didn't you fucking tell me Richard!" Paul began slapping him over the head repeatedly.
"I tried to tell you Paul but you wouldn't listen!" Rich pleaded, holding up his arms in defense. Paul snarled at him and then turned back to the policeman.
"Please, mate, come on. Let us off easy, we'll do anything." Paul made adorable puppy-dog eyes at the young Constable, and eventually he melted. He sighed loudly and shook his head.
"I can't believe I'm doing this, but I'm willing to let you off with four months community service."
"Oh thanks mate, you're a real good man you know that?" Paul let out a sigh of relief.
"There will be a small cost though. You'll have to pay for the broken window and any other damage you caused."
"Sure. Whatever you want." The Constable pulled a calculator out of his pocket and punched in a few numbers.
"That comes up to�$350." Richard's eyes widened. Tim simply grinned inanely.
"Thank you sir. This'll never happen again." Paul smiled and shoved his hand in Richard's jeans, extracting his wallet.
"Hey!" Rich snatched for the wallet but missed. Paul counted out the money and handed it over before passing the wallet back to Richard. He glared at Paul and shoved it back into his pocket.
"I don't know what you guys were trying to do in there, but just make sure it doesn't happen again."
"Of course." Paul smiled smugly as the man walked away. He closed the door behind him and let out a huge whoop before doing a victory dance all over the room.
"What're you so happy about!?" Rich snapped "We just lost the next two week's rent!"
"Don't you see Rich!? That doesn't matter, because we got what we went there for! It was worth it! She stole it from me, and so I stole it back, and she'll never get her grimy dilapidated hands on it again!!!" Paul grabbed his prized object from where it was lying on the floor and waved it above his head. "Viiccctoorryyyyy!!!" He continued dancing a variation of the Sailor Dance and Rich shook his head.
"I never should've agreed to move in with you guys again! And it's your fault if we get kicked out!" Rich pouted "All because of a dirty old sling-shot."
"How many French tourists does it take to change a�"
"SHUT UP TIM!!!"
THE END
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