Act 1: Part 8

My walk to school is covered with the picturesque blue sky and the sound of leaves rustling in the air. I see couples holding each other lovingly, friends making jokes about pop-culture, strangers stopping to talk, and, of course, a bunch of jocks in their uniforms and their sneakers. One of my backpack straps is slightly coming undone from around my shoulder.

"Hey, you think today's going to be different?" Huey asks.

"What do you mean?" I jostle my backpack back into place.

"Well, you know..." Huey shuffles his hands around as if trying to organize his thoughts, "We all suspected each other of murder yesterday, so do you think it's going awkward?" I couldn't help but to laugh, I'm sorry Huey, but that was funny.

"Duh, Huey, of course it's going to be awkward." I smarmily smarm like parmesan. "But..." I shrug, "I don't think it'll be weird at all."

"Good, that's what I was hoping for." He smiles, before stopping and staring at the ground. Huey looks like he's thinking about something.

"Who do you think did it?" He faintly interrogates me.

I pretend as if I don't care, "I don't know, I don't really want to suspect anyone just yet."

"Yeah, I don't want to either." We slow down our walk, "But someone did it." Huey juts his arms out, "More than likely though, it's Bubba. I mean, the police did say it was someone from our class, and he's dumb enough to commit murder and get caught."

You know, let's say he was the killer and this were a murder mystery novel - Why would he be the killer? Both Huey and Huey are clearly acknowledging him as the main bad guy, so it couldn't be him because it'd be so obvious. However, he's still a dick and has the temper to potentially commit a murder of his own, so there's that. Another problem is that if he were the killer, he'd be a twisted villain sort of, because he really was the killer. Hmm... I really hope he dies soon. Fuck that guy.

"That's true." My backpack strap is loosely slipping from my shoulder again, so I fix it once more, "I mean, we do have to admit that if Bubba did do it, he'd have been dumb enough to not make it obvious. He has no reason to murder anyone. It's not like they were getting on his nerves."

"I wonder if he did it. We all know him." Huey spins arounds and walks backwards - Still looking at me, "If he did it, he did it because he's a bastard. Bubba the Bastard."

"I've never heard you call him 'Bubba the Bastard.'" I smirk. "I like that." I feel like singing it. "I really like that."

"Really?" Huey seems surprised.

"Yep. Bubba the Bastard? Oh yeah, my kind of nickname." I just can't help it, and so, "Bub-Ba the Bast-Ard~!" I begin to sing.

"MC, no!" Huey cries.

"Strong like a bear man, brain like a fat turd~!" I will continue.

"Please stop." Huey says coldly, turning around and facing forward.

"Dick like a prick, and shows signs of being disturbed~!" I break out into jazz hands.

"You're not going to stop, are you?" He asks.

I grin ear to ear, "Not in a million years, Hue-Boy!" I finger gun him and continue, "The thicker the liquor, the more his crying becomes absurd~!"

"What?" He squints his eyes, his mouth slightly openly.

I begin to violently air my guitar and headbang, "Oh yeah~! oh yeah~!" Drum solo! I go for a bit of a slow breakdown. "The thicker the liquor, the more he cries~!"

"You're not singing anymore." He says.

"No. I'm not." I say with a deadpan expression. "I think I'm done. But my body is telling me to keep sing-ing~!" I play my guitar with an air of indifference.

"Fine." Huey grunts. "You can keep going."

"Oh, thank you." I say sarcastically.

"Don't thank me." Huey says.

"What? Why not?" I don't understand him at all.

"Well for starters," Huey smugly says, "You're playing the air guitar wrong."

"Is that so?" I smugly smug like a smuggin' vending machine of smug.

"Oh, you better believe it's so-so." Huey readies himself, and then, "Ba-Wa! Ba-Chi-Wa- Hibidi-Haba!" His air guitar skills are good, but not better than mine!!

I take a deep breath and prepare myself, "Hubbity-Wa! Manchester-Basest!" Suddenly Huey and I are locked into a tense air guitar competition. Huey shreds so metal that I swear I could see steam rising from his fingertips, and then suddenly lightning. I can't lose to him! I double-down on my talent of air guitar and lock eyes - Lightning rises from my fingertips too. Magically, we begin to float; swirling around and creating our reality. Miniature dragons appear from Huey's hands, so I counter with the Mothman. The dragons nearly nibbled the Mothman's wings, but he was too fast. The Mothman is so quick that he was still flying when he was on the ground. The Mothman's flight was even quicker, as he leapt above the mini-dragons and disappeared into a bright light. It only lasted for a split second, but I had seen enough. I was already flying away from Huey and into the night. The sky was so blue. I have to take advantage of the freedom and make the most of it. It's time to fly like the wind, baby!

The dragons follow us, swerving and barrel rolling like maniac pilots. However, the Mothman fired beams of a bright red light from his eyes and hands - Causing the dragons fall, and I stand victorious.

"What the hell are they doing?" I hear another student walking near us say to their friend. I snap back to reality, after losing gravity, and realize that we probably looked really stupid. Obviously none of that actually happened, but it felt so real.

Eventually though, we arrived at school. There is still a fair amount of police around, but people are starting to relax a little bit. Well, you know, the best people can be after a murder.

Huey nudges me, "It seems to me the cops are taking their time on this one. Why? They could have got their guy in five minutes. They have probable cause that a crime was committed. They don't need to waste a lot of time on this."

"I don't know. Maybe there's something that they need to do in order to bring some closure to the family? I know that I wouldn't want to feel that way." I say.

"Yeah, but I think we all know who did it though. Only reason he isn't charged yet is because the Sheriff probably doesn't want to admit it was his kid." Huey says. It just seems weird to me. The Sheriff being incompetent, and not doing his job correctly. It just doesn't seem right to me. It's not the first time I've heard something like this, but it's always bothered me that the Sheriff is so incompetent that he doesn't even know how to solve a case properly. I'm disgusted by this joke - This sick, sadistic joke of a man. I don't even want to hear any more of his comedy. But what repulses me more is what I hear more.

"Bitchin! Do it again." Faintly, but ever so brazen, Bubba's voice echoed throughout the campus grounds.

"Huh?" Huey is caught off guard too. I look over to see Bubba picking on Jason. His strength complimented his dick personality as he heartlessly lifted Jason, who would be the weight of a paperclip, into the air. Oddly enough, it looks like a father lifting his son. I stare wide eyed at the sheer insanity of the situation.

"Dance white boy, dance! You want to say that again, huh? Go on, dance for me you little shit!" Bubba cries.

"Whaa-!" Jason clearly said something to cause this, but I don't really care.

"Do it, do it! I dare you!" Spits fly out because of Bubba's yelling.

"Dance!"

"Do you think you can fucking do it, Jason? You know you can't do it right? You can't do anything. You're just a dumb, white piece of garbage!" Bubba starts to lift Jason higher and higher into the air. Bubba stops and stares at Jason, "Dance!" Jason tries to get away, but Bubba isn't going to let him go. Instead, Jason begins to wave around, trying to get away.

"See? There you go!!" Bubba shouts triumphantly.

The students standing nearby begin to take notice. Some are giggling, some are laughing, some are just staring. I just stand there with my mouth open. Suddenly the situation becomes far more surreal. Jason's face is getting redder and redder, and Jason's mouth is wide open, ready to say the first thing that comes to mind, but no words are said. It's at this point that Bubba has completely lost it.

"Stop!" Bubba is yelling, "Do it! Do it!" He has completely gone mad. "Do it!" Bubba screams.

I hear a crack as Bubba stomps his right foot.

"Bubba! Drop him!" A teacher calls out to us.

"He isn't going to stop!" Jason wails.

"Yes, he is. Just stop."

Huey and I look at each other. The whole thing is so stupid, I don't even want to watch any longer. Jason has been yelling all the way with his hands in front of him, as if he's trying to protect himself.

"Bubba! Drop him!" A teacher continues, "Now, drop him!"

I stand there, frozen. I really don't care what happens to Jason anymore. It's too bizarre to bear. But I want this whole, disgusting episode of life to just end. Bubba just won't stop. It's so cruel. Jason's face is a deep shade of crimson as the teacher begins to yell to Bubba to drop him. I gaze around at the students still enjoying this torture porn. Fuck you. But then, there is a loud crack. Something snaps and suddenly Jason falls to the ground. What the hell?

I move closer to see better, only to find Bubba on his knees, holding his head in pain, and Joanne near a bloody broken cinder block. Even though Joanne is the only one standing, Bubba is still the larger individual.

"Gah! You hit me with a fucking cinder block?" Bubba whines.

Softly, but with conviction, Joanne says, "You stopped, didn't you?"

Bubba slowly rose to his feet, and then with a defiant gaze and an arrogant demeanor, said, "Yeah bitch, I did." Bubba then walks away slowly, without looking back. Under his breath, I can him mumble, "Goddamn, that fucking hurt."

Joanne offers her hand to Jason, "You ok?" Her voice is calm but subtly having adrenaline.

"I think I broke my arm. I don't even feel anything."

Joanne takes Jason's arm and gently puts it around her waist. She slowly leads him away. As they walk, I notice Jason's face is a bright red, and that he has two large tears streaming down. He is shaking.

"Welp, time for class." Huey jokes nervously.

You're right with that attitude Huey - Time for class.