Hype High

Master Bruce said:
If you're going to insult me, you're going to need to learn how to spell the word 'monkeys'. :o

...It's how me and my friends spell it. :o

*You don't have friends, dumbass*

...

...

We'll meet again, Spider-Man! :mad:
 
Swordmaster said:
You're not a sex hungry clone, either.

No, she's not.

She's better.
13.gif
 
Chapter 9: Second Period…Finally


After the locker incident, and Meatbag’s sodomization (which he secretly enjoyed, btw) the four “friends” parted ways: MB and Dante went to English; Flexo went to “How-to-Kill-George-Lucas-Without-Really-Trying”; Meatbag went off to Home Ec., and DOG LIPS stood in the hallway, absentmindedly licking his crotch.

***
In Home Ec., Meatbag found himself in a room filled with Spidey Memorabilia and Sewing Machines. Each machine had a chair in front of it, and each chair was occupied, except for one next to…

Snipershot: boogerz!?@&

Meatbag:…Damn.

Snipershot: The boobeez is boogerz!?

Meatbag: The hells?

Snipershot (Grinning like a madman): PENIS!

Meatbag: NOOOO!

As Meatbag ran for the door, it opened, and a blonde twenty-something woman wearing a Spidey-Heart T-Shirt walked in.

Blonde: Hello, Class. I am SpidrmanLuvr28. All guys: Giggity!

Snipershot: u suckerz monkey!

…What? Snipershot is not a guy. Proven fact.

As SML28 made way to her desk, she passed a homeless man.

SML: Nice coat

Future Master Bruce: Thanks.

All guys sat staring (i.e. Drooling) at SML28 as she passed. Snipershot busied himself by stroking his salami. That’s not a metaphor. He really was stroking the piece of meat he’d been beaten with. Bastard.
JLBats broke from his trance long enough to grab SS by his neck.

JLBats: You are the most disgusting, vile thing on this Earth. You are a worthless sack of s**t who is both shallow and stupid. I hate you with every fiber of my being, and I think you should be exiled to eternity living with Joel Schumacher!

SS: nipple ribberz cooool!

(Note: SS actually enjoys the movie Batman and Robin. I kid you not.)

JLBats threw SS out of the window.

JLBats: :mad:

SML28:….Anyway, today we will learn to sew moneys back together.

Girls:…

Guys:

***
Meanwhile, in English, Dante, MB, and DL are in heated debate.

DL: Now, if you had to do any of ‘em, who would it be?

Dante: Dude, it’s the freakin’ Golden Girls!

DL: Exactly. And if you had to do…any of them…butt-nekkid…

MB: Betty White.

Dante:…Dude. Bea Arthur OWNS Betty White.

MB: No…wait. We’ve been spending WAY too much time with DL.

Dante: ANY time with DL is too much time.

MB: Point :o

Suddenly, MB started sniffing the air frantically.

MB: Do you smell that?

Dante: The smell of a pathetic sack of basteed sniffing the air? Yup.

MB: Besides that! No, the smell of arrogance, of obsession, of my stolen under-roos…

Dante: You don’t mean…
MB: PHANTASM!

Phantasm, looking more and more like Margot Kidder with glasses, walked in.

Phantasm: MB!

MB pulls out a textbook (Prep-Time for Dumbasses like Master Bruce) and knocked himself out with it. Dante surveys him sadly.

Dante: I woulda hit him…L

Phantasm walks over to Dante, MB, and the still-drooling DL. Dante is busy drawing a penis on MB’s head.

Dante: Add some hair…Oh! Phantasm!

Dante put the sharpie in his pants, but not before sniffing it.

Phantasm: What happened to him.

Dante: Genital herpes.

Phantasm: :confused: *pats Dante’s diseased head*

Dante: …damn it….Hey! Look! Emma Watson talking about wanting Hermione in JEANS!

Phantasm: :mad:

Phantasm pulls a pitchfork from her huge-ass pocketbook and runs toward nowhere, mumbling.

Dante: Phew. Katie Holmes.

MB sits up, instantly alert.

MB: Where?

Dante: Nowhere.

DL: Except in MB’s mind.

Dante: What the-? Why didn’t you help me against Phantasm!?

DL: I was busy fantasizing about the Golden Girls…nekkid…in chocolate…melted chocolate…

Dante and MB puke. When they’re done, MB looks at the clock.

MB: We’ve got five minutes left in the period. Where’s the teacher?

DL: Who…cares…?


MB: You’re not even in this class!

DL: …So?

As MB was about to respond (i.e. “Cry”) the door opened. A woman wearing a Scrubs t-shirt walked in with a beer bottle in one hand and five lit cigarettes in the other.

Woman: Yo. I’m Fry’s Girl. I really don’t give a damn about any of you…or this damn subject, so…yeah…

Phantasm appeared out of nowhere, picking…jean shreds…off of her pitchfork…

Phantasm: Excuse me Fry’s Girl, but this is not how a class should be run. In fact, I should run this class…

Dante stood up and threw his pen at Phantasm.

Dante: SHUT UP!

Phantasm: *smiles* *pats misguided, angry head*

Dante: *grumble* I need a beer…

Phantasm: No. You shouldn’t drink. Ever. Such is my word, and my word is law.

DL: That’s right Bea…lick Betty right…there…yeah…that’s it…

***
Flexo sat in the auditorium, alone.

Flexo: Yar. Time to kill Lucas…

A door opened, and a fat man in plaid walked in.

Flexo: No…no…no!

Fat Man: George Lucas Hungry!

George Lucas opened his mouth incredibly wide.
George Lucas: Feed George Lucas!

Flexo: Noooooooo!
 
Funny thing is...I had it all set a half-hour ago...then it came up "Page Cannot Be Displayed". I had to retype the damned thing....
 
....I learned that the hard way...:(


So how was it, on a whole?
 
Master Bruce said:
"George Lucas Hungry!"

:D:up:

ARRRR! I'll kill 'im from the inside, if'n the need be. :mad:

Ready the cannon and fetch me cutlass.
 
Who is the Fat Man? Not mfs, right?

Anyway, good job, Dante. Made me laugh. :up: :D
 
Flexo said:
ARRRR! I'll kill 'im from the inside, if'n the need be. :mad:

Ready the cannon and fetch me cutlass.


Hmmm....I got an idea...
 
Swordmaster said:
Fat man=George Lucas
How did I miss that?! :eek:
I thought Fat Man is some incompetent working for Lucas. Wait... I got it now! :D:O
 
So, am I ever getting back in? I'd love to see what would happen if the two obsessed Batman freaks met. :D
 
MaskedManJRK said:
So, am I ever getting back in? I'd love to see what would happen if the two obsessed Batman freaks met. :D

Once you get done beating up that nameless clown, I'm sure you'll get back into the story.
 

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