Lets Bring in the New Year! Chapter Three
Third Chapter of Let's Bring in the New Year, my Static Shock fanfiction. I hope you like it!
Chapter Three: Sob Stories and Childish Threats
“This is the last of it Richie…” Virgil exclaimed proudly as he picked up an empty plastic bag which used to contain a set of multicolored streamers and ribbon. He opened a drawer next to the dish washer and pulled out an undersized waste basket, which was hidden beneath the sink. Virgil stepped five paces away from the trash bin and stood poised above it, in a position normally assumed by basketball-players who are about to attempt to make a basket.
“He shoots…he scores! And the crowd goes wild!” Richie yelled, slapping palms with Virgil, giving him a high five to congratulate his best friend on his adept skill and talent of scoring on an unguarded trash can.
“Yes! Finally that’s done!”
“ Whadda ya wanna do now Richie?”
“I dunno V, what else can we do around here?”
“You up for a game of Zombie Slayer?”
”Nah, we played that yesterday.”
“We could always-” Virgil’s sentence was cut off by the deep baritone belonging to his father as the older man made his way down the flight of stairs.
“How about you boys head over to the community center?” Mr. Hawkins reached the base of the staircase and stated matter-o-factually,
“I heard they’re holding a festival down town, near Silverstone park.”
“But Pops, we don’t have any money.” Virgil murmured glumly. Mr. Hawkins lips parted into a broad grin as he held his index finger in the air, as to accentuate his cunning reply,
“Well it’s a good thing that it’s free.”
“No way!” Virgil yipped in excitement yet Richie looked doubtful,
“Woah…you sure it’s free Mr. H?” The man in particular nodded then stated,
“Admission’s free for Dakota students with their ID cards and also for senior citizens, of course.”
“Huh, seems pretty bogus to me,” Richie pondered, while scratching his chin.
“I wouldn’t be so sure that it’s a hoax Richie because-”
“Hey,” Virgil butted in, “If the city’s letting us all in the carnival for free, we shouldn’t complain!”
“Virgil’s right, son, yet it would be wonderful if he could learn to mind his manners once in a while.” Virgil rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, a quick “Sorry Pops!” being the only meager form of an apology that Virgil could supply. Mr. Hawkins threw his son a warning glance for interrupting him but consented as he relayed his part in the situation,
“As I was saying,” He paused to clear his throat then continued,
“I spoke with the town council last week, proposing to let members of our community in for a reduced price. The officers started debating yet I was eventually able to persuade them to allow students in for no charge, so that it would be a safe place for teens to have fun during New Years Eve.”
“Ah…that’s such a great idea, Mr. H! To trick the council with a sob story about children’s safety works every time.” Mr. Hawkins beamed proudly at the young genius’s approval yet his appreciation was soon consumed with doubt as Richie snapped his fingers to signify that a brilliant scheme had struck him
“Yo, take notes, V! Next time we’re late to class lets’ tell Mrs. Hendrix that we had to stop and help a boy find his lost puppy or something! We’ll be off the hook, no sweat!” Virgil and Richie smacked their palms together in a high five as Mr. Hawkins shook his head at the teen’s simplistic attempts to avoid confrontation and responsibility for his own actions.
“Well you’re right that sob stories normally win the sympathy vote, yet my intentions are completely accurate and applicable compared to your crafty plans for skipping class, eh Mr. Folley?” It was then Richie’s turn to become abashed and uncomfortable under Mr. Hawkins seemingly-all-knowing gaze. The older man’s eyes crinkled up with laughter behind his glasses at the look on the boy’s embarrassed face.
“Don’t worry Richie! I won’t turn you in, after all, if Virgil’s late again he’s going to have to serve another lunch detention. So I guess it’s your job now to make sure both of you get to school on time, hmm?”
“What happens if we don’t?” Virgil gulped, warily looking at his father.
“If not, I’ll have no choice but to inform Richie’s parents of his absences. And I’m sure Mr. Folley and I will be able to conjure up an agreeable punishment that’ll teach both of you a lesson about tardiness. Am I making myself clear boys?” Virgil and Richie exchanged alarmed glances then stood bolt upright, placing their right hands in a stiff salute, then chanted together,
“Yes, Sir! We won’t be late to another class, Sir!”
“See that you don’t. Now anyways, like I was saying earlier, I wanted to discuss some things about tonight before you two go out and have fun.” Mr. Hawkins sank into an olive-colored padded chair that rested neatly between a bookcase and the television set as he began his lecture,
“As you may know, many young people get involved in the hype surrounding a new year. Normally it’s not too bad because most of them are harmless party goers looking for a good time but others begin drinking; which leads to trouble. They often become reckless, bold and sometimes even violent towards other teenagers, especially when they become intoxicated with alcohol. This results in poor judgment, the loss of inhibitions as well as people being foolish enough to drive home, which puts everyone else on the road at risk of loosing their life. I want to help maintain as much peace and joy in Dakota during this holiday as I can. So the more kids that come to the Center, the merrier!”
“Good luck with that, Pops!” Virgil grinned,
“If I run into any of my friends, I’ll tell them to head over there, okay?”
“Sounds great, son.” Mr. Hawkins smiled warmly back at his youngest child before standing up to face Richie,
“You keep him in line, alright?” The heavy-set man placed a hefty palm on Richie’s shoulder in reassurance,
“If he gives you any trouble, just whack him on the head for me, okay Richie?”
“Oh don’t worry about that Mr. H! I’ll be sure to keep Virgil in check!” A cheeky grin stole across Richie’s light features as a sly idea leapt into his brain. He called across the room to Virgil, who was gathering their boots and scarves together in a lopsided pile.
“Yo V, did ya hear that? If you goof around too much, yo daddy gave me permission to beat up on ya!” A vibrant forest green scarf hit Richie square in the face, blockading Richie’s used-to-be gaping mouth, giving Virgil a chance to counter his friend’s heated attack of words.
“Is that so Rich? I bet you won’t even get a punch in before I knock ya to the ground!” Virgil bantered playfully, realizing that Richie knew full well that he did not stand a chance against the darker, larger and heavier of the pair.
“Well we’ll see about that, V!” Richie claimed, after pulling the offending object from his mouth. He then proceeded to curl it up into a ball, prepared to rat-tail Virgil’s exposed and unaware backside. As the twisted piece of green cloth crackled through the air, Virgil fluidly side-stepped out of the way, leaving Richie unbalanced. Virgil’s eyes lit up in the hopes of making a sneak attack against the ankle supporting the rest of Richie’s body weight, planning to send Richie sprawling on the floor once again. Fortunately for Richie, Mr. Hawkins immediately stepped in between the teenage boys, attempting to make the turmoil cease.
“Enough, enough boys…it’s already six o’clock! You’d better skedaddle before you waste all of your time here at the house.”
“Fine Pops! We’ll leave!” Virgil put up his palms in defeat, showing that the battle had met an armistice. He then wrapped his own burgundy scarf around his neck before turning to accept the twenty dollar bill that his father had fished out of his wallet. Virgil nodded his thanks then called out to his best friend,
“Hey, you forgot to get your coat. It’s hanging on the chair in the kitchen.” Virgil casually strolled over to Richie’s side before he innocently propped his foot out in front of the oblivious blonde’s feet.
“Okay I’ll go get it, hold on Virg!” Richie announced, racing towards the kitchen, accidentally tripping over the extended limb of his friend in his haste.
“Ahhh!” Richie squealed, arms flailing as he fell towards the floor. Before Richie’s body made contact with the edge of the couch or the soft linoleum carpet, his chest was snatched up in Virgil’s strong forearms, which swiftly caught and steadied his best friend.
“You okay Richie?” Virgil patiently called, waving a hand in front of his pal’s surprised face. All Richie was able to do was lightly pant, slightly in a daze. His gaze then hesitantly shifted towards a pair of shining brown eyes, searching for an explanation as to why his feet had left the ground only seconds before hand. Virgil met Richie’s stare, his expression unreadable until it was broken by an immature wink from the tan boy, which utterly destroyed the calm that had set in the family room of Virgil’s house.
“I told ya it wasn’t over Rich!” Virgil sniggered, his teeth exposed in a lop-sided grin, knowing full well that his comment would send the entire house spiraling back into complete chaos once again after Richie came to his senses. As if on cue, Richie huffed, hastily composing himself before snapping,
“You’re so gonna pay Virg!”
“Hah! You won’t even get a chance to take your revenge!” Virgil beamed then as a second thought, added,
“My senses are sharper than Spider-man’s and my reflexes can almost match up to the Flash’s, so I wouldn’t be talking if I were you, buddy!”
“You got nothing on the Flash, dude! If either of those guys heard you right now, your brown behind would be in major trouble.”
“So what? They aren’t here so they’d never know I said a thing!”
“Yeah, not until some one told them.” Richie’s eye brows rose, signifying his intentions. Virgil’s pupils stretched in disbelief,
“You wouldn’t!”
“You never know Virg, maybe I should hit the Justice League up on the shock box if you don’t believe me.” Virgil shrugged, feigned disinterest,
“Heh, whatever. I still owned you, man!”
“Ah just you wait V, I’m gonna get you back when you least expect it!”
“Sure you will, Richie, sure you will! But for now, let’s get out of my dad’s way and party it up!”
“Count me in!” The pale boy chimed, his eyes scrunched up as he shot a rounded fist into the air with glee.
“Right on my brother!” Virgil echoed his friend’s excitement with a hearty pat on the back. They separated, giving themselves enough room to exchange a clashing of knuckles, their fists meeting together to form a handshake only known to them.
“Let’s go!”
Copyright
Virgil, Richie & Mr. Hawkins (c) DC comics
Chapter Three: Sob Stories and Childish Threats
“This is the last of it Richie…” Virgil exclaimed proudly as he picked up an empty plastic bag which used to contain a set of multicolored streamers and ribbon. He opened a drawer next to the dish washer and pulled out an undersized waste basket, which was hidden beneath the sink. Virgil stepped five paces away from the trash bin and stood poised above it, in a position normally assumed by basketball-players who are about to attempt to make a basket.
“He shoots…he scores! And the crowd goes wild!” Richie yelled, slapping palms with Virgil, giving him a high five to congratulate his best friend on his adept skill and talent of scoring on an unguarded trash can.
“Yes! Finally that’s done!”
“ Whadda ya wanna do now Richie?”
“I dunno V, what else can we do around here?”
“You up for a game of Zombie Slayer?”
”Nah, we played that yesterday.”
“We could always-” Virgil’s sentence was cut off by the deep baritone belonging to his father as the older man made his way down the flight of stairs.
“How about you boys head over to the community center?” Mr. Hawkins reached the base of the staircase and stated matter-o-factually,
“I heard they’re holding a festival down town, near Silverstone park.”
“But Pops, we don’t have any money.” Virgil murmured glumly. Mr. Hawkins lips parted into a broad grin as he held his index finger in the air, as to accentuate his cunning reply,
“Well it’s a good thing that it’s free.”
“No way!” Virgil yipped in excitement yet Richie looked doubtful,
“Woah…you sure it’s free Mr. H?” The man in particular nodded then stated,
“Admission’s free for Dakota students with their ID cards and also for senior citizens, of course.”
“Huh, seems pretty bogus to me,” Richie pondered, while scratching his chin.
“I wouldn’t be so sure that it’s a hoax Richie because-”
“Hey,” Virgil butted in, “If the city’s letting us all in the carnival for free, we shouldn’t complain!”
“Virgil’s right, son, yet it would be wonderful if he could learn to mind his manners once in a while.” Virgil rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, a quick “Sorry Pops!” being the only meager form of an apology that Virgil could supply. Mr. Hawkins threw his son a warning glance for interrupting him but consented as he relayed his part in the situation,
“As I was saying,” He paused to clear his throat then continued,
“I spoke with the town council last week, proposing to let members of our community in for a reduced price. The officers started debating yet I was eventually able to persuade them to allow students in for no charge, so that it would be a safe place for teens to have fun during New Years Eve.”
“Ah…that’s such a great idea, Mr. H! To trick the council with a sob story about children’s safety works every time.” Mr. Hawkins beamed proudly at the young genius’s approval yet his appreciation was soon consumed with doubt as Richie snapped his fingers to signify that a brilliant scheme had struck him
“Yo, take notes, V! Next time we’re late to class lets’ tell Mrs. Hendrix that we had to stop and help a boy find his lost puppy or something! We’ll be off the hook, no sweat!” Virgil and Richie smacked their palms together in a high five as Mr. Hawkins shook his head at the teen’s simplistic attempts to avoid confrontation and responsibility for his own actions.
“Well you’re right that sob stories normally win the sympathy vote, yet my intentions are completely accurate and applicable compared to your crafty plans for skipping class, eh Mr. Folley?” It was then Richie’s turn to become abashed and uncomfortable under Mr. Hawkins seemingly-all-knowing gaze. The older man’s eyes crinkled up with laughter behind his glasses at the look on the boy’s embarrassed face.
“Don’t worry Richie! I won’t turn you in, after all, if Virgil’s late again he’s going to have to serve another lunch detention. So I guess it’s your job now to make sure both of you get to school on time, hmm?”
“What happens if we don’t?” Virgil gulped, warily looking at his father.
“If not, I’ll have no choice but to inform Richie’s parents of his absences. And I’m sure Mr. Folley and I will be able to conjure up an agreeable punishment that’ll teach both of you a lesson about tardiness. Am I making myself clear boys?” Virgil and Richie exchanged alarmed glances then stood bolt upright, placing their right hands in a stiff salute, then chanted together,
“Yes, Sir! We won’t be late to another class, Sir!”
“See that you don’t. Now anyways, like I was saying earlier, I wanted to discuss some things about tonight before you two go out and have fun.” Mr. Hawkins sank into an olive-colored padded chair that rested neatly between a bookcase and the television set as he began his lecture,
“As you may know, many young people get involved in the hype surrounding a new year. Normally it’s not too bad because most of them are harmless party goers looking for a good time but others begin drinking; which leads to trouble. They often become reckless, bold and sometimes even violent towards other teenagers, especially when they become intoxicated with alcohol. This results in poor judgment, the loss of inhibitions as well as people being foolish enough to drive home, which puts everyone else on the road at risk of loosing their life. I want to help maintain as much peace and joy in Dakota during this holiday as I can. So the more kids that come to the Center, the merrier!”
“Good luck with that, Pops!” Virgil grinned,
“If I run into any of my friends, I’ll tell them to head over there, okay?”
“Sounds great, son.” Mr. Hawkins smiled warmly back at his youngest child before standing up to face Richie,
“You keep him in line, alright?” The heavy-set man placed a hefty palm on Richie’s shoulder in reassurance,
“If he gives you any trouble, just whack him on the head for me, okay Richie?”
“Oh don’t worry about that Mr. H! I’ll be sure to keep Virgil in check!” A cheeky grin stole across Richie’s light features as a sly idea leapt into his brain. He called across the room to Virgil, who was gathering their boots and scarves together in a lopsided pile.
“Yo V, did ya hear that? If you goof around too much, yo daddy gave me permission to beat up on ya!” A vibrant forest green scarf hit Richie square in the face, blockading Richie’s used-to-be gaping mouth, giving Virgil a chance to counter his friend’s heated attack of words.
“Is that so Rich? I bet you won’t even get a punch in before I knock ya to the ground!” Virgil bantered playfully, realizing that Richie knew full well that he did not stand a chance against the darker, larger and heavier of the pair.
“Well we’ll see about that, V!” Richie claimed, after pulling the offending object from his mouth. He then proceeded to curl it up into a ball, prepared to rat-tail Virgil’s exposed and unaware backside. As the twisted piece of green cloth crackled through the air, Virgil fluidly side-stepped out of the way, leaving Richie unbalanced. Virgil’s eyes lit up in the hopes of making a sneak attack against the ankle supporting the rest of Richie’s body weight, planning to send Richie sprawling on the floor once again. Fortunately for Richie, Mr. Hawkins immediately stepped in between the teenage boys, attempting to make the turmoil cease.
“Enough, enough boys…it’s already six o’clock! You’d better skedaddle before you waste all of your time here at the house.”
“Fine Pops! We’ll leave!” Virgil put up his palms in defeat, showing that the battle had met an armistice. He then wrapped his own burgundy scarf around his neck before turning to accept the twenty dollar bill that his father had fished out of his wallet. Virgil nodded his thanks then called out to his best friend,
“Hey, you forgot to get your coat. It’s hanging on the chair in the kitchen.” Virgil casually strolled over to Richie’s side before he innocently propped his foot out in front of the oblivious blonde’s feet.
“Okay I’ll go get it, hold on Virg!” Richie announced, racing towards the kitchen, accidentally tripping over the extended limb of his friend in his haste.
“Ahhh!” Richie squealed, arms flailing as he fell towards the floor. Before Richie’s body made contact with the edge of the couch or the soft linoleum carpet, his chest was snatched up in Virgil’s strong forearms, which swiftly caught and steadied his best friend.
“You okay Richie?” Virgil patiently called, waving a hand in front of his pal’s surprised face. All Richie was able to do was lightly pant, slightly in a daze. His gaze then hesitantly shifted towards a pair of shining brown eyes, searching for an explanation as to why his feet had left the ground only seconds before hand. Virgil met Richie’s stare, his expression unreadable until it was broken by an immature wink from the tan boy, which utterly destroyed the calm that had set in the family room of Virgil’s house.
“I told ya it wasn’t over Rich!” Virgil sniggered, his teeth exposed in a lop-sided grin, knowing full well that his comment would send the entire house spiraling back into complete chaos once again after Richie came to his senses. As if on cue, Richie huffed, hastily composing himself before snapping,
“You’re so gonna pay Virg!”
“Hah! You won’t even get a chance to take your revenge!” Virgil beamed then as a second thought, added,
“My senses are sharper than Spider-man’s and my reflexes can almost match up to the Flash’s, so I wouldn’t be talking if I were you, buddy!”
“You got nothing on the Flash, dude! If either of those guys heard you right now, your brown behind would be in major trouble.”
“So what? They aren’t here so they’d never know I said a thing!”
“Yeah, not until some one told them.” Richie’s eye brows rose, signifying his intentions. Virgil’s pupils stretched in disbelief,
“You wouldn’t!”
“You never know Virg, maybe I should hit the Justice League up on the shock box if you don’t believe me.” Virgil shrugged, feigned disinterest,
“Heh, whatever. I still owned you, man!”
“Ah just you wait V, I’m gonna get you back when you least expect it!”
“Sure you will, Richie, sure you will! But for now, let’s get out of my dad’s way and party it up!”
“Count me in!” The pale boy chimed, his eyes scrunched up as he shot a rounded fist into the air with glee.
“Right on my brother!” Virgil echoed his friend’s excitement with a hearty pat on the back. They separated, giving themselves enough room to exchange a clashing of knuckles, their fists meeting together to form a handshake only known to them.
“Let’s go!”
Copyright
Virgil, Richie & Mr. Hawkins (c) DC comics