Fic: [Insert Obnoxious Title Here] (II/V)
Fic: [Insert Obnoxious Title Here]
Fandom: Zoey 101
Pairings\Characters: Lola\Michael, barely there Zoey\Logan. Also, Logan\Shame, Chase\Misfortune, Everyone\Their own agendas.
Summary: The very picture of souless story-telling.
A\N: A sprawling, relentless ensemble piece from the woeful days of early '08.
II.
Un
The Naked Idiot is news by the time Zoey is sleeping with her eyes open during fourth period. She tries to take notes but her glitter pen runs out of ink and French is tres boring and she really wants to be in Portugese anyway. She feels kind of bad for her teacher who's all un de twa while the class is mostly unconcious and\or pda-ing in a most PG-13 fashion (seriously, are they in France?) and she'd care but there's a half an hour left and Nicole's providing running comentary about every single thing that's happening out the window. ("Aww, Zoey it's a squirrel! They're so cute. A squirrel bit me once, I think it had rabies. Ohh look a butterfly!")
Nicole's had four iced coffee and a Snickers. She's gone through four People magazines highlighting celebrites she finds objectionable, held an entire leather vs. pleather debate, ruminated outloud on the existence of aliens and wether they'd be into Earth girls, played I-Spy solo (losing to herself ten to fifteen only to go on to kick her own ass in the finals), made a fortune teller (Zoey's gonna marry Michael, live on a deserted island in the British Isles and tame Loch-ness), thrown fruit snacks at Terry Zwigler who won't stop playing Hooked on Phonics with Gwen Stefani on her headphones, and written an angry letter to Morgan Freeman for totally bumming her out during March of the Penguins.
"Seriously Zo, it's like the saddest movie starring penguins ever...except for like, Happy Feet...because they weren't allowed to dance. Like thoes people from Footloose! What was up with that?"
And it's Friday, which is basically Saturday with a self-esteem problem and she's so dropping this class and seeing the Dean about a private Portugese tutorial as soon as the stupid bell rings.
In front of her, Mike and Candice are arguing about wether the Naked Idiot is nude for his own sake or because of a dare/perversity/pcp. Candice seems to think the dude is a perv, and refuses to look anywhere but the ceiling in case the guy comes running in while she's trying to conjugate verbs. Judging by the starry-eyed groupie voice, Mike is under the impression the NI is a sign from God, a reminder that order is meant to be destroyed by choas. Comparisons to Che Guverra and James Dean are made. The words "revolutionary" and "bad ass" are bandied about.
Zoey's kind of inclined to vote with Candice, naked = creepy, and her aviator sunglasses rest on her head to sheild her from something she won't be able to unsee.
Ew.
Plus, Candice is good people, a somewhat obsessive brownie-maker, (able to produce batches and batches until she makes one without any dough imperfections or sprinkle anomalies) always willing to make guinea pigs out of the girls on her floor. Animae lover. Cocker Spanial enthusiast. Owner of two discreet tattoos. Wicked OCD-Saturday afternoons find she and Nicole vaccuming her floor and bemoaning the absence of a competent janitorial staff. Has daily PCA press confrences stating that yes, the brief seconds between fourth and fifth period find she and Mark holding hands in the corridor, and no it's not "totally gross" because (for the last time) they are not brother and sister.
Even though they totally look alike. Zoey doesn't believe them until they show everyone the DNA test at lunch.
"Luke and Leigha were brother and sister, Candice and I are totally, one hundred percent, swear on freaking Nightwing, unrelated."
"He's like, telling us to live without borders." Mark says between excited sips of chocolate milk. Like, these stupid things like obeying laws and wearing pants are just holding us back."
"Are you nuts? He's a total perv!"
"No, he's like a symbol. He's telling us we don't have to be slaves to this tyrannical society. We can go back to our basic instincts because it's who we really are. It's evolution...and he can show us the way...he's like Ghandi man."
"He's a creepy flasher Mark, Ghandi was not a creepy flasher."
De
The first buliten hits in second period as Lola's borrowing Zoey's red glitter pen to color in Captain Jack Sparrow's bandanna on her notebook and the coverage is like CNN but gross.
Some kid wakes up and decides clothes are beneath hiim and that somehow his nudity is a gift the students and staff at PCA don't even know what they want. Numerous ground reports confirm the sighting of a fleeing, fleshy figure Forest Gump-ing it across the expanse of the lacross field mid practice. According to various sources in Chem lab, the ensuing high speed chase ends with the campus police pulling their golf carts out of the ditch near the Science Wing.
The term "Naked Idiot" is coined by Harper Salazaar dring the PCA Breaking News segment that pops up while Zoey's blowing on her stupid recorder in third period.
There's no video, but you can tell by Harper's eyeroll the dude's a total pyscho and Mr. Galvin shakes his head like what is the world coming to mi libros? before pasting on his brave face and conducting the class in the second verse of My Heart Will Go On. By the time Zoey rescues Nicole from a potential hallway rock-paper-scissors smackdown, ("Are you kidding? Meteors always beat scissors, they're death balls from space!") bets are being made, homemade blindfolds are being tested and the PCA poll numbers have compeletly shifted. 64% of the population are totally convinced the Naked Idiot's just a free-wheeling, modern dude on an epic, if misguided, quest for his pants. 27% think he's a sick, creepy, perv who ingests pcp like it's Tang, while 9% aren't exactly sure who the NI is, but are already looking for trailers online.
"I hope he knows he isn't alone out there." Mark sighs.
"What, are you like BFF's now? Are you going to take all your clothes off and dance around the soccer field?"
"You can't start a revolution with one person Candice!"
Twa
All in all, Friday has some serious issues it should consider discussing with a therapist and Zoey is so over it. All that sit between her and salvationis the glacial movement of the clock and the suspicious shifting of Mrs. Maynard's lazy eye.
"On to your passages my pets," The rotund woman warbles and Nicole shrieks a little (Zoey can't blame her, most of the kids read like Rainman, thus recitations go by like slow death) and flicks Zoey in ear. When Zoey turns to hit Nicole with her rolled up People, she has to cover her mouth to keep from screaming because the undead hobo currently crawling up the window.
It's actually just Logan (braincells sold seperatly) looking as though he's just lost of fight with a pair of scissors before being challenged by the ground who called winner and throttled soundly by like, all the elements of nature combined. He jumps up and down, waves his arm, presses his face to the glass, writes ! PLEH in his breath, pretends to walk down imaginary stairs and bangs on the window like a scared mime being chased by people who really don't like mimes.
Gabe Felderman's getting jiggy with superlative phrases, Mrs. Maynard wincing delicately at every lispy blow to the French langauge, and Zoey pokes the side of Nicole's head with her sneaker- a geat more easily accomplished than normal because Nicole is huddled under her desk in a fetal position.
Qaurt
Nicole has seen tons of horror movies and the cute girl always dies at the end after watching all her friends get chopped into tiny pieces and being forced to marry the insane, cannibal killer guy and she is so not going out like that.
Her tiny life flashes before her eyes and Gilligan's Island dream sequence style and she hasn't passed physics, or cured lactosintolerance or reunited Dream Street or anything. The only thing she's ever finished with any gusto is the occasional Fruit Roll Up, which also happens to be the last thing she consumes before her creepy, undead, future husband thing clamps onto the window like that thing on the wing of the plane in that movie about that thing on the wing of the plane.
What at first feels like the caress of a sociopath is actually just the toe of Zoey's powder blue Converse rubbing the top of her head in a "hey homie" gesture that's like a hug for her scalp but not.
Her comerade's wtf look (with the raised eyebrows and everything) is fraught with 007 super spy type tension out the ying yang. (She's hazy on the spelling of 'espionage', but she does know that Sean Connery is one stealthy, scotch-loving, beardy, mofo) and she looks across the room before yanking her head toward the window and crawling over Nicole's chair.
Nicole ninja rolls on her stomach and pops up beside Zoey and oh hey it's Logan! She waves madly, feeling her second chance at life would be of much more value if it included cheese, (Chedder is like, her only love sprung from her only hate.) and making a mental note to find some Purel wipes for her prolonged intimacy with the floor.
Logan has scratches all over his face and dirt on his I Heart Lesbians t-shirt. His blue hoodie makes him look like E.T. on crack and the first thing he says when they finally push the window is (predictably) :
"Let me in!"
"Wow." Zoey raises her eyebrows.
"Not crazy about your tone."
"Hostile much?"
"Let's me in!"
Nicole bounces on the ball of her feet. "What's the password?"
"Bitch (breath)...tried to kill me."
"I was looking for snickerdoodle, Nicole sighs, or Ryan Phillipe."
"Logan what are doing?" Zoey hiss/whispers.
"Crazy (breath) pms (breath) had to get (breath) help." He whezzes, pressing on the frame.
"That sounds like a personal problem." Zoey folds her across her chest.
"Came out of (breath) nowhere (break) freakin' (breath) (breath) ninja."
"Yeah...I'm gonna need you to anunciate."
"The rain, in Spain, falls mainly on the plain."
"Let me in!"
"Miss Brooks?"
Cue the halting of Mrs. Maynard's previously unwavering dedication to brain cell suicide.
Sanc
Zoey slams the window shut and whirls around in a stealth tribute to Allen Iverson, collapsing against the sill in the Portrait of Casual. Nicole looks at the ceiling and tries really hard not to break out in hives.
"Is there a problem?" Mrs. Maynard frowns, adjusting her jewelry. Gabe Felderman looks relieved (butchering another langauage is exhuasting) and with the exception of Terry Zigwoff's rendition of Holla Back Girl, the class is silent.
"Um." Zoey begins profoundly.
"Air!" Nicole seconds.
Mrs Maynard makes a "Qua?" face that if Zoey weren't at all worried abot her survival, she'd get printed on a shirt and sell to everyone. Instead, she states in a rather high voice that while totally spellbound by the conjugation of French verbs and stuff, there knaws at her consciousness a fly ripe for swatting in the form of the heater, ("What is it like a billion degrees in here?") and that by keeping the heat at such a hellacious level in freakin' September, they're using way too much energy on a planet that's already hot enough according to Al Gore, so to relive herself, and possibly save the world, she's taken it upon herself to open a window.
Unfortunately, the one she picks doesn't provide the circulation necessary to pay one hundred percent attention so with Madame's permission ("'vouplaiz?") she's gonna see if the windows in the back of the rom are more cooperative. Ahem.
After a brief, backward glance, Mark loudly volunteers to aid Zoey in her strenous task ("This situation screams for the skills of a fifth level ranger.") and drags Candance out of her chair before she can protest (or call him something demeaning like a paladin).
Mrs. Maynard fixes Zoey with one eye as the other swivels toward Gabe Felderman, before muttering about hysterics and teenage estrogen levels and gives her ascent.
Five seconds later, (and two seconds befoe Nicole can yell "Field trip!") they've conveigned at the barren wasteland near the supply closet, far enough away so as not to interrupt Gabe Felderman's resuming massacure on the French langauge but close enough to become the audience for Terry Zwigler's Tone Deaf Tour '08.
Zoey directs the action like she does this every day, like when they've finished up here they'll pack up and perform the entire thing for a gymnasium full of kids at another school. She's no Emma Peel, but based on that morning they pretty much fail spy school(in what universe does it take four people to open a window?) the lighting is abrasive, the authorities are in the room, and the soundtrack to their nerve-bending, post-breakfast stealth?
Effing Holla Back Girl.
Espionage gods? Um hi, you suck.
It could be worse. Nicole and Candance makes what Zoey hopes looks like a totally casual red rover wall while she and
Mark pull Logan through the window. He's panting and trying to say stuff so they push him against the supply closet. The back of the room smells like an Axe party for one.
Fandom: Zoey 101
Pairings\Characters: Lola\Michael, barely there Zoey\Logan. Also, Logan\Shame, Chase\Misfortune, Everyone\Their own agendas.
Summary: The very picture of souless story-telling.
A\N: A sprawling, relentless ensemble piece from the woeful days of early '08.
II.
Un
The Naked Idiot is news by the time Zoey is sleeping with her eyes open during fourth period. She tries to take notes but her glitter pen runs out of ink and French is tres boring and she really wants to be in Portugese anyway. She feels kind of bad for her teacher who's all un de twa while the class is mostly unconcious and\or pda-ing in a most PG-13 fashion (seriously, are they in France?) and she'd care but there's a half an hour left and Nicole's providing running comentary about every single thing that's happening out the window. ("Aww, Zoey it's a squirrel! They're so cute. A squirrel bit me once, I think it had rabies. Ohh look a butterfly!")
Nicole's had four iced coffee and a Snickers. She's gone through four People magazines highlighting celebrites she finds objectionable, held an entire leather vs. pleather debate, ruminated outloud on the existence of aliens and wether they'd be into Earth girls, played I-Spy solo (losing to herself ten to fifteen only to go on to kick her own ass in the finals), made a fortune teller (Zoey's gonna marry Michael, live on a deserted island in the British Isles and tame Loch-ness), thrown fruit snacks at Terry Zwigler who won't stop playing Hooked on Phonics with Gwen Stefani on her headphones, and written an angry letter to Morgan Freeman for totally bumming her out during March of the Penguins.
"Seriously Zo, it's like the saddest movie starring penguins ever...except for like, Happy Feet...because they weren't allowed to dance. Like thoes people from Footloose! What was up with that?"
And it's Friday, which is basically Saturday with a self-esteem problem and she's so dropping this class and seeing the Dean about a private Portugese tutorial as soon as the stupid bell rings.
In front of her, Mike and Candice are arguing about wether the Naked Idiot is nude for his own sake or because of a dare/perversity/pcp. Candice seems to think the dude is a perv, and refuses to look anywhere but the ceiling in case the guy comes running in while she's trying to conjugate verbs. Judging by the starry-eyed groupie voice, Mike is under the impression the NI is a sign from God, a reminder that order is meant to be destroyed by choas. Comparisons to Che Guverra and James Dean are made. The words "revolutionary" and "bad ass" are bandied about.
Zoey's kind of inclined to vote with Candice, naked = creepy, and her aviator sunglasses rest on her head to sheild her from something she won't be able to unsee.
Ew.
Plus, Candice is good people, a somewhat obsessive brownie-maker, (able to produce batches and batches until she makes one without any dough imperfections or sprinkle anomalies) always willing to make guinea pigs out of the girls on her floor. Animae lover. Cocker Spanial enthusiast. Owner of two discreet tattoos. Wicked OCD-Saturday afternoons find she and Nicole vaccuming her floor and bemoaning the absence of a competent janitorial staff. Has daily PCA press confrences stating that yes, the brief seconds between fourth and fifth period find she and Mark holding hands in the corridor, and no it's not "totally gross" because (for the last time) they are not brother and sister.
Even though they totally look alike. Zoey doesn't believe them until they show everyone the DNA test at lunch.
"Luke and Leigha were brother and sister, Candice and I are totally, one hundred percent, swear on freaking Nightwing, unrelated."
"He's like, telling us to live without borders." Mark says between excited sips of chocolate milk. Like, these stupid things like obeying laws and wearing pants are just holding us back."
"Are you nuts? He's a total perv!"
"No, he's like a symbol. He's telling us we don't have to be slaves to this tyrannical society. We can go back to our basic instincts because it's who we really are. It's evolution...and he can show us the way...he's like Ghandi man."
"He's a creepy flasher Mark, Ghandi was not a creepy flasher."
De
The first buliten hits in second period as Lola's borrowing Zoey's red glitter pen to color in Captain Jack Sparrow's bandanna on her notebook and the coverage is like CNN but gross.
Some kid wakes up and decides clothes are beneath hiim and that somehow his nudity is a gift the students and staff at PCA don't even know what they want. Numerous ground reports confirm the sighting of a fleeing, fleshy figure Forest Gump-ing it across the expanse of the lacross field mid practice. According to various sources in Chem lab, the ensuing high speed chase ends with the campus police pulling their golf carts out of the ditch near the Science Wing.
The term "Naked Idiot" is coined by Harper Salazaar dring the PCA Breaking News segment that pops up while Zoey's blowing on her stupid recorder in third period.
There's no video, but you can tell by Harper's eyeroll the dude's a total pyscho and Mr. Galvin shakes his head like what is the world coming to mi libros? before pasting on his brave face and conducting the class in the second verse of My Heart Will Go On. By the time Zoey rescues Nicole from a potential hallway rock-paper-scissors smackdown, ("Are you kidding? Meteors always beat scissors, they're death balls from space!") bets are being made, homemade blindfolds are being tested and the PCA poll numbers have compeletly shifted. 64% of the population are totally convinced the Naked Idiot's just a free-wheeling, modern dude on an epic, if misguided, quest for his pants. 27% think he's a sick, creepy, perv who ingests pcp like it's Tang, while 9% aren't exactly sure who the NI is, but are already looking for trailers online.
"I hope he knows he isn't alone out there." Mark sighs.
"What, are you like BFF's now? Are you going to take all your clothes off and dance around the soccer field?"
"You can't start a revolution with one person Candice!"
Twa
All in all, Friday has some serious issues it should consider discussing with a therapist and Zoey is so over it. All that sit between her and salvationis the glacial movement of the clock and the suspicious shifting of Mrs. Maynard's lazy eye.
"On to your passages my pets," The rotund woman warbles and Nicole shrieks a little (Zoey can't blame her, most of the kids read like Rainman, thus recitations go by like slow death) and flicks Zoey in ear. When Zoey turns to hit Nicole with her rolled up People, she has to cover her mouth to keep from screaming because the undead hobo currently crawling up the window.
It's actually just Logan (braincells sold seperatly) looking as though he's just lost of fight with a pair of scissors before being challenged by the ground who called winner and throttled soundly by like, all the elements of nature combined. He jumps up and down, waves his arm, presses his face to the glass, writes ! PLEH in his breath, pretends to walk down imaginary stairs and bangs on the window like a scared mime being chased by people who really don't like mimes.
Gabe Felderman's getting jiggy with superlative phrases, Mrs. Maynard wincing delicately at every lispy blow to the French langauge, and Zoey pokes the side of Nicole's head with her sneaker- a geat more easily accomplished than normal because Nicole is huddled under her desk in a fetal position.
Qaurt
Nicole has seen tons of horror movies and the cute girl always dies at the end after watching all her friends get chopped into tiny pieces and being forced to marry the insane, cannibal killer guy and she is so not going out like that.
Her tiny life flashes before her eyes and Gilligan's Island dream sequence style and she hasn't passed physics, or cured lactosintolerance or reunited Dream Street or anything. The only thing she's ever finished with any gusto is the occasional Fruit Roll Up, which also happens to be the last thing she consumes before her creepy, undead, future husband thing clamps onto the window like that thing on the wing of the plane in that movie about that thing on the wing of the plane.
What at first feels like the caress of a sociopath is actually just the toe of Zoey's powder blue Converse rubbing the top of her head in a "hey homie" gesture that's like a hug for her scalp but not.
Her comerade's wtf look (with the raised eyebrows and everything) is fraught with 007 super spy type tension out the ying yang. (She's hazy on the spelling of 'espionage', but she does know that Sean Connery is one stealthy, scotch-loving, beardy, mofo) and she looks across the room before yanking her head toward the window and crawling over Nicole's chair.
Nicole ninja rolls on her stomach and pops up beside Zoey and oh hey it's Logan! She waves madly, feeling her second chance at life would be of much more value if it included cheese, (Chedder is like, her only love sprung from her only hate.) and making a mental note to find some Purel wipes for her prolonged intimacy with the floor.
Logan has scratches all over his face and dirt on his I Heart Lesbians t-shirt. His blue hoodie makes him look like E.T. on crack and the first thing he says when they finally push the window is (predictably) :
"Let me in!"
"Wow." Zoey raises her eyebrows.
"Not crazy about your tone."
"Hostile much?"
"Let's me in!"
Nicole bounces on the ball of her feet. "What's the password?"
"Bitch (breath)...tried to kill me."
"I was looking for snickerdoodle, Nicole sighs, or Ryan Phillipe."
"Logan what are doing?" Zoey hiss/whispers.
"Crazy (breath) pms (breath) had to get (breath) help." He whezzes, pressing on the frame.
"That sounds like a personal problem." Zoey folds her across her chest.
"Came out of (breath) nowhere (break) freakin' (breath) (breath) ninja."
"Yeah...I'm gonna need you to anunciate."
"The rain, in Spain, falls mainly on the plain."
"Let me in!"
"Miss Brooks?"
Cue the halting of Mrs. Maynard's previously unwavering dedication to brain cell suicide.
Sanc
Zoey slams the window shut and whirls around in a stealth tribute to Allen Iverson, collapsing against the sill in the Portrait of Casual. Nicole looks at the ceiling and tries really hard not to break out in hives.
"Is there a problem?" Mrs. Maynard frowns, adjusting her jewelry. Gabe Felderman looks relieved (butchering another langauage is exhuasting) and with the exception of Terry Zigwoff's rendition of Holla Back Girl, the class is silent.
"Um." Zoey begins profoundly.
"Air!" Nicole seconds.
Mrs Maynard makes a "Qua?" face that if Zoey weren't at all worried abot her survival, she'd get printed on a shirt and sell to everyone. Instead, she states in a rather high voice that while totally spellbound by the conjugation of French verbs and stuff, there knaws at her consciousness a fly ripe for swatting in the form of the heater, ("What is it like a billion degrees in here?") and that by keeping the heat at such a hellacious level in freakin' September, they're using way too much energy on a planet that's already hot enough according to Al Gore, so to relive herself, and possibly save the world, she's taken it upon herself to open a window.
Unfortunately, the one she picks doesn't provide the circulation necessary to pay one hundred percent attention so with Madame's permission ("'vouplaiz?") she's gonna see if the windows in the back of the rom are more cooperative. Ahem.
After a brief, backward glance, Mark loudly volunteers to aid Zoey in her strenous task ("This situation screams for the skills of a fifth level ranger.") and drags Candance out of her chair before she can protest (or call him something demeaning like a paladin).
Mrs. Maynard fixes Zoey with one eye as the other swivels toward Gabe Felderman, before muttering about hysterics and teenage estrogen levels and gives her ascent.
Five seconds later, (and two seconds befoe Nicole can yell "Field trip!") they've conveigned at the barren wasteland near the supply closet, far enough away so as not to interrupt Gabe Felderman's resuming massacure on the French langauge but close enough to become the audience for Terry Zwigler's Tone Deaf Tour '08.
Zoey directs the action like she does this every day, like when they've finished up here they'll pack up and perform the entire thing for a gymnasium full of kids at another school. She's no Emma Peel, but based on that morning they pretty much fail spy school(in what universe does it take four people to open a window?) the lighting is abrasive, the authorities are in the room, and the soundtrack to their nerve-bending, post-breakfast stealth?
Effing Holla Back Girl.
Espionage gods? Um hi, you suck.
It could be worse. Nicole and Candance makes what Zoey hopes looks like a totally casual red rover wall while she and
Mark pull Logan through the window. He's panting and trying to say stuff so they push him against the supply closet. The back of the room smells like an Axe party for one.