Destined For Greatness (Part 2)

(warning: contains swearing)

* **Nate:** *text*
* **Francis:** *text*
* **Teddy:** *text*
* **Sharon:** text
* **Artur:** *text*
* **Randy:** *text*
* **Gina:** *text*
* **Mrs. Godfrey:** *text*

Previous part

*Have you ever noticed that people tell you "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day" right before they shove a fucking bowl of lumpy oatmeal in your face?*

Marty (while putting an bowl of oatmeal in front of Nate): Eat hearty!

Nate: (For the love of god, PLEASE let those lumps be raisins.)

*I'm too scared shitless about the social studies test that'll land my ass in detention to listen to Dad's ramblings about how a high-fiber diet changed his life.*

*Summer. School.*

*Talk about two words that DO NOT go together, just like "Oat" and "Meal".*

*I have no fucking idea what summer school even is. Francis thinks it's like school, only hotter. But Sharon thinks that it's just like school but in one class.*

*But people like Dee Dee and Teddy say that in summer school, the teachers make you work your ass off. And they're not talking about worksheets or chapter reviews. It's more like scraping chewing gum of desks, washing the floor with your clothes, or scrubbing the toilets in the boys locker room with toothbrushes (which I hope it isn't true, because those toilets are disgusting), it's pretty fucking awful.*

*The only kid I know who's ever gone to summer school is Chester Budrick, I could ask him what it's like but the last time I tried to ask him for something, he shoved me into a garbage can, that motherfucker is kind of a psycho.*

*Whatever. The point is, summer school cannot be good. I can't think of anything nastier.*

*Suddenly, right on cue....**IN WALKS ELLEN.***

(Ellen walks in, notices the oatmeal, and asks Nate to get out her seat, which he refuses)

Ellen: You’re in my seat.

Nate: Fuck off, Ellen.

(Ellen shoves Nate off the seat and sits in it)

*Okay, I can think of SOMEONE far worse than summer school, and that's my older sister, Ellen. Summer school only lasts eight weeks, an 16 year old sister lasts until she turns 17, which is even worse.*

*Sisters don't need to be obnoxious, they're all just born that way.*

*If anyone has had a sister, then you can feel my pain, if not though, then welcome to my nightmare.*

*Here is only FIVE of the most annoying facts about her.*

*5: She's constantly begging Dad for her to buy a cat (I have ailurophobia, which is the fear of cats).*

*4: She wears perfume that makes her smell like a dead skunk.*

*3: She got a karaoke machine on her twelfth birthday, and she's STILL hasn't outgrown it.*

*2: Her haircare products are accelerating the process of climate change.*

**Hypothetical Ellen**: *Who gives two shits about global warming?*

*1: Nobody, and i mean NOBODY except me realizes how obnoxious she truly is.*

Hypothetical clueless woman: Ellen, you truly are wonderful!

Hypothetical Ellen: Yes, I know!

*You know what else about Ellen that pisses me off? She doesn't have to worry about summer school because she's always been a good student. Which Mrs. Godfrey reminds me every day.*

(DRAMATIC FLASHBACK)

Mrs. Godfrey: Why can't you be like your sister?

*Right, like that's gonna be my role in life, being a airheaded whore of a high school cheerleader, thanks, but no thanks, you fat fuck.*

*Huh? Oh, great. Dad's talking again.*

*Note to self: Add "she doesn't shut the fuck up to list of annoying things about Ellen.*

Marty: Nate? what's going on for you?

Nate (EXTREMLELY NERVOUSLY): Um, nothing!

*Hmmm. I dont think Dad's believing me one bit, he's giving me the look.*

*THE LOOK: Level 1 of Dad's suspicion meter, it means you're not being 100% honest with him.*

*THE SQUINT: Dad's way of saying "You've gotta be shitting me.".*

*THE HAIRY EYEBALL: When Dad does this, better stand your distance, he will go ballistic.*

*Dad's only at Level One at the moment, but I know where the conversation is gonna go, so better get the fuck going so I can avoid more questions.*

(Nate bolts out of the room and out of the house and straight for P.S. 38 with his backpack in his right hand)

*Whew! That was so close. Dad has no damn idea of knowing that I could end up in summer school.*

*Not unless he's secretly having conversations with Mrs. Godfrey in the middle of the night.*

*Ew, I've gotta think about something else-*

(Nate trips over Spitsy, Mr. Eustis's dog who wears a cone on his head)

Nate: GAAAHH!

*Nice place for a nap, Spitsy. Shouldn't you be chasing squirrels or something?*

*Spitsy belongs to my other neighbor, Mr. Eustis, who lives next door. And, in case the ridiculous looking dog sweater and the Cone of Shame didn't tip you off, Spitsy is the ultimate dog nerd. He eats his own shit, he's afraid of mailmen, he gets his ass kicked by squirells, he has a crush on Pickles (Francis's cat), he prefers to play poker instead of taking walks, and for the love of god, PLEASE do not try throw him a tennis ball. I did that once and he ended up shitting it out.*

*But I dont want to rag on Spitsy. He's a dog after all, and all dogs are cool in my book (except for those chihuahuas and wolves).*

Nate (talking to Spitsy): It must nice to be you, Spitsy. You get to hang out all day, sleeping in the sun. You don't have to worry about Hairy Eyeballs. Or big sisters. Or teachers. And you especially don't have to worry about taking a social studies test.

*Waitaminute! Maybe I DONT have to worry about the test either!*

*What if I can get out of it? What if I can convince Mrs. Godfrey to make me take the test tomorrow instead of today? Then I'll borrow Francis's class notes and prepare myself for the test, That'll give me me a CHANCE to try to pass the stinkin' thing!*

Nate: How does this sound, Spitsy? You'll help me think of something, right?

Spitsy: Wurf!

*See? this is why dogs are far superior to cats, as cats lie on their asses, scratching the furniture and licking themselves.*

*Okay, brainstorming time. How can I get out of doing this test? It's easy thinking up with a plan, but when ever I do come up with one, I think of a reason why it wont work.*

**Plan A: ILLNESS**

*As soon as the test starts, I hold my breath until my face turns red and then I tell Mrs. Godfrey that I feel really, really sick.*

**WHY IT WONT WORK:**

*She keeps a thermometer in her desk.*

**Plan B: INJURY**

*I wrap my hand in bandages and then tell her I can't write because I fractured my wrist.*

**WHY IT WONT WORK:**

*She'll make me take the test left-handed. Yep, she's that much of a heartless bitch.*

**Plan C: TRAGIC ACCIDENT**

*I pretend to hit my head against the door on the way to the classroom, then act that i've got amnesia.*

Hypothetical Nate (pretending to be dizzy): *My mind, i-it has gone BLANK!*

Hypothetical Mrs. Godfrey: (you have to be fucking kidding me.)

**WHY IT WONT WORK:**

*I tried that one back in September.*

**Plan D: THE TRUTH**

*I walk up to Mrs. Godfrey, look her in the eyes and tell her that:*

**Nate:** *I didn't know there was gonna be a test today.*

**WHY IT WONT WORK:**

*That woman hates my ass.*

*Crap. This is getting me absolutely fucking nowhere. I've only got twenty-eight minutes until the test, thirty-three minutes until Mrs. Godfrey brings down the summer school hammer down onto me.*

(Nate glances down at his watch)

*Now it's thirty-two minutes now. Yikes.*

*It's beginning to look like the only way to avoid this damn test is....is....*

(Nate starts thinking about it, while Spitsy takes a nap behind him, and Nate gets an idea)

...is to skip school altogether!

(Nate starts running towards the woods)

*Yes! that's it! I'll skip school, I'll take the day off! I'll pretend somebody just invented a brand new holliday! I'll....I'll....*

(Nate stops in his tracks)

*I'll stop right here.*

*What the hell am I DOING? Nobody gets away skipping school at P.S. 38. It's impossible!*

*”Why? Why is it impossible to skip school?”, you ask? I'll tell you why with two words.*

***"THE MACHINE".***

*Not a real machine, like that thing that the janitor uses to buff up the floors, The Machine isn't something you can see, hear, smell, or touch, but it's there.*

*It watches you. It knows every. Single. Move. You. Make.*

*And if you're not where you're supposed to be (at school), it will track you down. Here's how:*

**1: THE SEATING CHART**

*Teachers always tell you where to sit. They claim that it helps them to "remember our names". Right. Like they give a flying fuck about what our names are.*

*They really do it to keep tabs on you. One look at the chart and they know right away if you're ass is not sitting in the seat. Then the Machine starts up.*

**2: THE ATTENDANCE SHEET**

*Teachers always write everything down. Who the fuck knows why.*

Mrs. Godfrey: We're organized!

Nate: (you're fucking control freaks.)

*They fill out an attendance sheet in every class. If you're missing, a big red "X" goes next to your name, Congratulations. You're absent.*

**3: THE CLASSROOM HELPER**

*Last month, we saw a movie about bees in science. This big fat queen bee sat on her big, fat ass in the hive doing nothing while the drones did all of the work for her. Why does that sound so familiar?*

(a sketch of Mrs. Godfrey as a bee commanding the students as bee drones to get her stuff)

Bee Godfrey: Peel me a grape!

*Teachers are the queen bees. Guess who the drones are.*

Mrs. Godfrey: I'm looking for a classroom helper to do a very important job!

Gina Hemphil-Toms: OOOH! OOH! OOH!

*It's always a suck up bitch like Gina-Hemphil-Toms who volunteers, because she's so desperate to earn extra credit. Good for you Gina. I'm sure your career as a seventh-grade classroom helper will get you into some fancy-pants college.*

Mrs. Godfrey (handing Gina a piece of paper): Take this attendance sheet to the front office.

*The front office. The engine that runs the Machine. And right in the middle of it is....*

**4: THE SCHOOL SECRETARY**

*Mrs. Shipulski's not so bad. It isn't HER fault they make her keep track of attendance. (I also dont blame her for all the times she says "Nate, the principal will see you now")*

*She's fast for a 64 year old lady. She looks all over those attendance sheets in no time. The second she spots that red "X" next to your name, she's on the phone to your parent(s) (I said that because my parents divorced and my mother didn't want custody of me and Ellen).*

Secretary Marie Shipulski: Nate isn't at school.

Marty: WHAT!?

*There. You see how the Machine works? See how efficient it is? You can't win. You can't outwit it. There's no escape from the Machine.*

*That's my predicament. If i run off to the woods to hang out with Spitsy, it'll take at least five minutes for Mrs. Shipulski to fire up the Dad Hotline. Then summer school would be the least of my many problems. I could get suspended, maybe expelled, sent to juvie, or even sent to a fucking military academy like Spag Union where they give you a buzzcut and make you say "sir" at the beginning and end of every sentence.*

*That settles it. Skipping school is not a fucking option. I need to be more creative about this. What I need is a excused absence.*

*An excused absence means you go to school just like normal. But you have a parent note saying you need to be somewhere else at a certain time. Bingo, You're free! Yesterday, Alan Olquist left halfway through science because he had to get a wart zapped. How lucky can anyone get?*

(DRAMATIC FLASHBACK)

**Alan Olquist** (walking out the classroom): *So long, motherfuckers!*

*So all I need to do is stroll into social studies with note from Dad saying I've got an excuse-let's say a dentist appointment-and I'm off the hook. Fucking genius!*

*Yeah, yeah. I know what you're thinking. "You don't have a note from your father.", but I can take care of that quick.*

(Nate starts drawing a note that says

"Dear Clara Godfrey,

Please excuse Nate at 8:45 this morning. He has a very important dentist app-" but suddenly stops writing)

*Woah. Nope, that wont cut it. That looks like WAY TOO FUCKING MUCH like my handwriting, Mrs. Godfrey will sniff that out immediately, She may be loud, nasty and ugly, but she's not a dumbass (which I wish she was).*

*I've got to make it more like a grown up's handwriting, like DAD's, and his is messy as fuck.*

(Nate starts writing in cursive but stops when he finds out he can barely tell what it's supposed to say)

*Whoops. Not THAT messy. Even I can't read that shit.*

*This is much harder that I thought it would be. And I'm running out of time.*

(Nate draws the letter again in a handwriting that looks almost like his father's handwriting that says:

Dear Clara Godfrey, Please excuse Nate at 8:45 this morning. He has a very urgent dentist appointment at 9:30.)

*Hey, HEY! That looks like the real thing! Pretty damn convincing!*

*Hello, excused absence! Good-bye, stupid social studies test! All that's left to do is to forge Dad's signature.*

*Forge...Dad's...signature....Uhhhh....Let me think about this for a second. Forge. Forgery. Oh fuck.*

*Isn't forgery, like, a CRIME? Don't people get thrown into prison for signing the wrong name on a check or for using somebody else's credit card or for copy-and-pasting something on the internet and passing it off as your own?*

*Listen, I'm no Goody Too-Shoes. There's a desk in the fucking detention room with my name on it, literally. But I'm not breaking the LAW. I don't want to get my ass dragged out of P.S. 38 in handcuffs and a face full of pepper spray.*

**Hypothetical Civilian #1**: *Dere goes the notorious Nate Wright!*

**Hypothetical Civilian #2**: *The identity thief??*

**Hypothetical Civilian #3**: *HOLY SHIT, I DIDN'T THINK THAT TEENAGERS COULD GO TO PRISON!*

*This is slowly turning into a bad idea. I’d better get rid of this before-*

(Francis Pope walks up to Nate)

**Francis**: *Hi!*

**Nate:** *GAAAAAAH*!

*JESUS FUCKING CHRIST. Thank god it’s only Francis. That’s the downside of living next door to your best friend. He’s always sneaking up upon you and invading your fucking privacy. Not like I have anything to hide.*

*Nate, I just walked up to you and you’re panicking about something. What is it?*

**Francis**: What are you writing?

**Nate:** It's none of your fucking business!

*Okay, So I’ve got at least one thing to hide.*

*Okay, Nate’s triying to tell me that what he’s writing is none of my buisness. It looks like he’s writing a excused absence for a test that we have in 2 weeks.*

**Francis**: I'm going to ask you again, what are you writing?

**Nate:** Nothing!

**Francis**: It doesnt look like nothing, Nate.

*Nate, what the fuck are you writing?*

*Why is he acting all Sherlock Holmes on me?*

**Francis**: It looks like a note.

*I then decide to tell Francis what I’m (or was) doing.*

**Nate:** Okay, OKAY!! I'll tell you! I was just forging an excuse to get out of the Social Studies test!

*Hmmm, long, awkward pause, Francis looks at me a weird expression (half-smirking and half-confused) on his face, it looks like he’s about to fart or judge me for what i told him.*

**Francis**: What social studies test?

*Wow, Francis. For a genius like you, you're pretty fucking stupid.*

**Nate:** *The test I saw you STUDYING for this morning!*

**Francis**: *Nate, We don't **HAVE** a social studies test today!*

**Nate:** ***THEN WHY THE FUCK WERE YOU READING YOUR SOCIAL STUDIES TEXT BOOK!?***

**Francis**: Because I enjoy improving my mind!

*I’m just gonna ignore the incredibly fucking lame statement Francis just made and focus on what he said right before it.*

**Nate:** So we dont have a test today?

**Francis**: Nope.

*Yes, YES!*

**Nate:** ***YES!***

**Francis**: *Although I wish we do have a test today because I enjoy taking one.*

(Nate punches Francis straight in the face, causing him to fall backwards and his nose to bleed and damaging his glasses)

*Sorry, Francis. But when you start acting like the president of Geek City, it’s my job to beat the shit out of you so I can knock some sense into you. You’re lucky I didnt punch you in the face even harder.*

(Nate hears a bell ring, and starts walking towards P.S 38)

*There’s the first bell. Not exacly music to my ears (I hate it), but the sick feeling in the depths in my stomach is gone. No test! No summer school! This could be end up being a great day after all! Things are starting to look up.*

(Francis throws a book at Nate, knocking him down)

**Francis**: *Got you back!*

*Yup, “things are definitely looking up” is utter bullshit.*

Next part