May, a month of MADAM Mayhem 5 ! ! !

Wednesday, May 14th 11:33 am”
During recess over at the picnic table that no one else dared to congregate, sat MONSTERS. Mindy, Olla, Nancy, Sandy (Jarred’s sis), Tammy Ellie, Rhonda, and newest member of ‘the BOB’ Suzanne. What a sight they were. It’s Wednesday, and that means that the Gar-girls are color coordinated today. Yeah, I know. Thank God us dogs are color blind. So obviously I can only tell you this, second hand. Well…second paw. Anyway, Blue was the color of the day. So there was a sea of several shades of it over by the tables. Blue, Navy, Sky, China, Cobalt, Sapphire, and Cerulean. And that was just the skirts and blouses. The socks, jewelry, and hair accessories came in Aqua, Azure, Indigo, and of course “Mark Thompson Blue” (the same shade as his eyes). Girls are so weird. Now Suzanne, having Mommy dearest taker her shopping, had to have the best of the best. There wasn’t much jealousy coming from the rest of the girls, just a comment now and then when Suzanne would go on and on about where the outfit came from and the outrageous cost. All said this was usually considered a safe day on the playground because ‘the BOB’ didn’t want to mess up their outfits or to ruin what Sandy called the “Color Atmosphere” that they created. Ooooookay then.

11:42 am:
In one gentle swift movement, almost synchronized, ‘the BOB’ got up from their table and headed into the playground. From the far side of the grounds, hidden behind a giant Lilac bush, Stephen and Jarred could see the BLOB moving from kid to kid. They would surround him or her in a tight circle, almost hover there like vultures for a minute and then leave. For 15 minutes this went on, all the while Suzanne was clutching her precious blue purse close to her body. Then off to the east end of the grounds Jarred noticed a blur of sorts coming their way. It dodged in and out of every possible crevice and hiding place the boys were known to hide. “Hey. Look over there.” Jarred pointed. “Who is that?” Stephen asked. “I think its Fast Freddy.” “Who?” he inquired again. “You know! Fred!? Uh…I can’t remember his last name. You know…the kid that talks a hundred miles an hour. I think he’s in the other 5th grade class.” Jarred ended. “Oh yah. What’s he doing darting around like a fugitive?” Stephen inquired. “I think he’s looking for us?” Jarred answered raising an eyebrow.

11:44 am:
“Jarred! Stephen!” Fred said almost out of breath. “You guys gotta hear this.” Fred took a deep breath……………and then like rapid fire……….
“TheBOBisaskingalotofquiestionaboutyouguysandsomekindofvideotapes.” Deep breathe…”Theyarethreateningeveryonethatiftheydon’ttellwhattheyknowthattheywillstriptheboysdowntotheirunderwareandgivethegirlsablackeyeorfakehickyandtelleveryoneitisreal.” Breath… “Suzanneisofferingarewardforinformationleadingtotheposessionandproofofdestructionofanyandallsaidtapes. Whatarethetapestheyaretalkingaboutandwhydotheywantthem? AreyouguyssomekindofjuniorFBIagents? CanIjoin? CanIhelp? I’llbeagoodspy! I’llgotomydeathbeforeItalk!” Right! Go to his death before talking? Fast Freddy couldn’t stop talking if his life depended on it. Often his teacher has come over to his desk and squeezed his shoulder or gave his desk a tap with a yardstick to stop him from talking him self-unconscious. Breathe Fred BREATHE. Anyway, what is it with teachers and yardsticks? “Fast Freddy?! Er, uh I mean Fred. FRED.” Stephen interrupted him putting his finger to his mouth. “Shhhhh. Actually we are CIA. Youth Division.” Jarred held back a giggle. “Yah, and we’ll let you know if you can join later. But right now, you need to go so we can call head quarters on our secret hidden phones.” Fred darted out and back towards the other end of the playground, doing all he could to avoid being seen by ‘the BOB’. “Secret Phones?” Stephen chuckled. “Yah well, ya know. Had to say something!” Jarred replied back. Stephen gave Jarred a punch in the arm and said. “Good one, Goober-head.” Jarred cringed for a second and punched him back. “Ow, you Goober-doofis.” They both just rolled their eyes and shook their heads.

11:52 am:
Watching ‘the BOB’ get closer to their position, the boys made ready some dirt balls to throw just in case. The girls had finished threatening most of the kids on the playground, and were now heading toward the boys location. “Get ready!” they both said under their breath. “Stephen? Jarred?” Sandy called out to them in a seemingly non-threatening way. “What do you Gar-girls want?” Jarred questioned back. “We just wanna talk for a minute.” Suzanne said softly, while reaching into her purse. The boys took flanks, and exited the bush from either side. Poised and ready for battle, they each had two compacted dirtballs, loaded with worms, ready for action. “What is it? What do you want?” the girls heard them say, now in stereo. “I was just showing everyone the new pen my Daddy bought me.” She said pulling out a fancy calligraphy pen; with one of those handles you pull back to suck the ink up into it. “WOW! That’s pretty cool.” Jarred shot out quickly, dropping one of his dirt grenades. Stephen, now standing next to him, elbowed his side, to try and warm him of the oncoming danger. Suzanne continued. “It’s real expensive, and it has this ejection slide to squirt out the excess ink when you are done writing.” Just then she pulled back the slide and squirted ink all over the boys shirts. They both looked down at their now black ink stained shirts, looked at each other with some wide-eyed disbelief, and then looked back at Suzanne. “You JERK.” Stephen shouted, and slung a dirt ball right into the center of Suzanne’s blue and white blouse. “You Rotten Rich Brat. Who do you think you are?” Jarred said just before smashing his remaining grenade right on Suzanne’s head. Suzanne dropped to the ground and started crying. It didn’t take long for the playground monitor to hear her exaggerated cries and come running to investigate. “What have YOU boys done this time?” She asked. The boys, in full-blown panic mode, started explaining, trading sentences back and forth, beginning with Stephen. “We only fought back.” “She squirted ink on us.“ Yah, Suzanne started it.” “That’s right. She and this mob have been harassing everyone on the playground.” “Tell her about the ink.” “Fred said that all these girls were stirring up trouble and threatening other kids.” “And then she comes over here and shoots ink all over our shirts.” “So then Suzy Moo, I mean Suzanne, starts her crying like a baby and…” The monitor interrupts. “ Wait wait wait wait. Calm down now. What are you boys talking about? Squirting Ink?!? What? Where is this ink you keep shouting about?” The boys look down at their shirts again…and …Nothing. There was no stain, no mark, no ink, nothing. Nada, zip, zilch, zero. “But….but there was…..there was…..” They both just stuttered about for a few seconds. Grabbing one ear in each of her hands, Ms. Kappral lead the boys off to the principles office. Catching just glimpses, the boys saw Suzanne jump up, take a bow to the other girls, wipe off her blouse, and blow a kiss toward the boys.

Disappearing Ink. The boys had only ever heard of the stuff. They never dreamed that it actually existed. It was the only conclusion that they could come up with. That sneaky, low down, rotten, so and so Suzanne. She set them up. She gambled every step, and predicted exactly what they boys would do. Now in the clubhouse, the boys were discussing her cunning and wit, but they refused to grant her ‘Worthy Adversary’ notoriety. 2 weeks of eraser clapping detention, and after 2 swats each from their dads, the boys found them selves plotting careful retaliation. "That Suzanne. Grrrrr." Hey, I'm the Dog, I'll do the growling around here. You two just be boys and keep her

Henry the Dog

May, a month of MADAM Mayhem 4 ! ! !

Monday, May 12th 1:17 pm:
In the Art Room, just down the hall from Mrs. Stintenhutts class, the Art teacher Mr. Brooks was in the supply closet looking for some more glue. Mean while, Stephen flipped his upper eyelids up and stretched the bottom lids and his bottom lip down. Jarred hooked the sides of his mouth with his pinky fingers stretching his lips diagonally, stuck out is tongue, and pushed his nose up with another finger. Then spinning a quarter turn on their chairs, twisting the rest of their bodies to face her, leaning back on the chairs rear legs, the boys came face to face with Suzanne Cooper and gave out a few pig calls. “oink oink – snort snort – suuuuuey” Suzanne tilted her head to the left flipped her hair back off of her shoulder, and in her ‘I’m NOT from the south, but I like to pretend that I’m a southern bell’ voice, she asked “Why gentlemen…what ever have I done to deserve such a childish display?” “You know what you did.” Jarred spouted off. “Yeah. And don’t think that we are going to forget about it either.” Stephen finished. “BOYS, Boys, boys.” She said getting a little bit quieter. Suzanne looked around to see that no one else was listening and began to speak again. “That was a test. I needed to see if you boys, uh I mean young men, had the guts and morality that everyone claims you do. And it would seem that the others are right. You took it like men, and I respect that. Somebody else might have turned the tables and got me in trouble, but you boys didn’t.” She got a little bit quieter now. The boys quickly turned thinking a double cross was coming again and that Mr. Brooks was standing behind watching them perform his greatest pet peeve. But no, he was still busy shuffling supplies in the closet. “Gentlemen!” she whispered leaning a bit forward toward the boys. In one practiced motion, they turned leaned and rested an arm on the art table behind them. “I harbor no ill feelings for the two of you. In fact, tomorrow I’ll bring in some cookies to show you that I don’t. How does some home-made Chocolate Chip cookies sound?” She had their attention now, but trust was a dirty four-letter word with Suzanne now. “No thanks Suzy.” Jarred stated with extreme sarcasm, and then Stephen finished “We’d rather not fall for on of your little traps again.” Suzanne got a bit quieter again. Leaning in another, not so obvious, inch toward the boys, thus causing them to lean back a bit more on their chairs just to hear her, she spoke gently. “You should trust your instincts.” Both the brows on the boys lowered inquisitively, when suddenly Suzanne reached across her table, grabbed the leaning arm of each boy, and pulled. ‘SLAM BAM’ the sound of the wood and metal of their chairs bouncing on the classroom floor was quite loud. They scurried around trying to pick up themselves and their chairs and get them both back into a seated position.

Mr. Brooks new those sounds, all too well. He collected the glue he was looking for, and closed the closet doors. He walked over toward the two desks that were in need of the adhesive he was bringing. Calmly, and knowing by the panting and red blushing faces who was guilty, he asked, “What’s going on in here?” He set the glue down and took a few steps back to face the culprits. “Mr. Crow, Mr. Myers? Is there something you wish to tell me?” he asked. “No Sir!” came the unified standard response. “Uh, Mr. Brooks?” Suzanne said raising her hand to speak. “Yes Miss Cooper!” “Stephen and Jarred were leaning back on their chairs bothering me, and then they fell.” She offered as if he didn’t already know. ‘That stinking bag of skunk guts.’ Jarred though, and as if by telepathy Stephen said it turning his head toward Suzanne. “You stinking bag of skunk guts.” WHAP! Smacking Stephen’s desk, Mr. Brook's yardstick made the whole class jump. “You are done, Mr. Myers.” He said. “But she…” WHAP! Again. With the same calm, cool and collected voice, Mr. Brooks reiterated. “I SAID you are done. Now. Is what Miss Tattle-tale just said, true?” He had a distaste for tattle-tales and snitching more so than kids leaning back on their chairs. “Yes Sir.” the boys answered. They were devious and cunning, and always finding trouble, but it was a long instilled value to always tell the truth when asked. Of course they had moments of trying to justify their actions, but truth meant honor, and honor was for men. Yeah, I know, I’m a puppy and they’re just boys, but only in age. Giving only a second of thought to the situation Mr. Brooks said, “Well then, the two of you can stand for the remainder of the class. Remove your chairs the back of the room and come back to your table to finish your projects.” The boys could have told Mr. Brooks that Suzanne was just as guilty and she would be standing too, but that would have been tattling just like her. Besides, making her stand was too easy. Plotting a payback was much more fun. The boys hadn’t yet tested Suzanne enough to see just how far they could go without causing a total meltdown. And no idea light bulbs were flickering on right now. This was just not the time. But it was coming….

Tuesday May 13th 7:30 am:
“Hey, what’s that?” Jarred asked running up to a rectangular black object on the sidewalk. Stephen whacked another dandelion, and then hurried after. “Huh, it’s a video tape.” Jarred said just as Stephen caught up. “Look. It’s all smashed up, and the tape is pulled out to half a block up there.” “I hate it when people litter.” Stephen said. They grabbed the pieces up and began to roll up the loose tape. When they got to the end, they just tossed it in one of the not yet emptied garbage cans along the street. Jarred went back to kicking his now dented and rusty can, and Stephen gave his backside another wiggle before his next shot as he spoke in is commentator voice. “S. Myers lines up the ball. He knows he needs this one on the green, or the whole tournament is shot to pieces. He looks down the fairway, looks at the ball, looks down the…” And then interrupting suddenly “Hey, there’s another one.” Jarred shouted. Stephen looked up from the stick and flower he was about to send into oblivion. “Huh? Another what?” he asked. “There’s another video tape up ahead. Rotten dirt bags littering up our sidewalks. Someone outta smack ‘em in the knee with a stick for doing that.” Jarred said. Then Stephen offering his first thoughts said “Some kid probably got mad at his Mommy and Daddy for not letting him stay up and watch a movie, and decided to break a few out of spite. Dumb Litterbug. He could have just thrown them awa…wa wait a minute. Do you see that?” “Stephen, please tell me that isn’t the number 4 your scratched into the fourth video of ‘the BOB’s’ slumber party recording! PLEASE!!!” “AWE MAN! ! IT IS! And I think that other tape had a 2 on it.” Stephen replied. “But how? When did they…? AWE MAN!” Jarred said starring off into the distance as if he was watching a bad dream come to life. “BUB? This is not good.” he said softly. Stephen replied with subtle sarcasm “No kidding Goober-head.” The started to discuss the findings while forgetting the golf ball flowers and can kicking the rest of the way to school. And right in front of the main school entrance was a third destroyed videotape. “That only leaves 2 copies. We’ve gotta go get them.” Stephen said urgently. “We can’t go get them now or we’ll be late.” Jarred countered his suggestion, and then finished there discussion by concluding just which tapes were left and there locations. ‘The BOB’ had found numbers 4, 2 and this last one was number 5. That left 3 and 6, since the first one was a gimme for the girls to destroy after watching it them selves. This was somewhat good news though. Numbers 3 and 6 would be the hardest for the girls to find. 3 was put in 3 consecutive plastic freezer bags, marked “Catfish” and placed inside of the freezer that Jarred’s dad like to call the meat locker. And number 6 was inside of the safe that Stephen’s older brother used as a nightstand. However safe they might be, the boys were NOT going to take any chances. They had to get More copies made. This was life and death. So to speak.

By the giggles and secretive taunts that ‘the BOB’ were tossing at the boys all day, they just new that Suzy Moo Chew had to have had some kind of role in finding them. The girls had been completely unsuccessful at finding any of the copies until Suzanne came to town and joined their Gargirl Group. Only God knew what was going to happen next. Well I know too, but that’s just my Doggy sense. You humans call it your sixth sense. Besides, I am writing telling the story here, aren’t I?

Henry the Dog.

May, a month of MADAM Mayhem 3 ! ! !

Friday May 9th 7:35 am:
“Do you think Suzy Moo Chew is gonna get busted with gum today?” Jarred asked Stephen on their walk to school. “Definitely! I just hope she has to put it on her nose like we had to last week.” He answered. Jarred was kicking a tin can down the street. He had been kicking it for the whole week, to and from school. On Tuesday he gave a short thought to setting a world record, but quickly let it go when Stephen belched ‘Rubber Baby Buggy Bumpers’. Stephen was smacking dandelions with a stick like they were golf balls. “Shhhhhhhhmack. And the ball goes long. Oooooo, too bad. Right into a sand trap.” He said commentating each shot. He looked down, planted his feet, wiggled his butt, drew back his club, struck the flower head, followed through, and looked up and…..”Awe man!!! Look!” He said pointing over toward Daniel Street. “Awe Puke-a-zoid!” Jarred acknowledged. “What’s “the BLOB” doing so far out of their way and routine?” Jarred asked shaking his head in wonderment as he pulled his foot back to kick his can again. Stephen answered “Did you forget already? Suzanne joined the club. All their initials add up to monsters, but it spells Trouble for us.” The boys just looked away and continued on toward school.

Friday May 9th 7:43 am:
Little did the boys know, “the BOB” (I like the BLOB better) was making ground coming up from behind. Shhhhhmack and Kick and Shhhhhhmack and Kick and “Hey Boys!” Suzanne said with a shreek in her voice. “We’re on our way to school, so lets do some MATH. Waddaya say?! One Stick plus One Can plus two nose picking sissy boys equallllllls?!? AAAAAAANT, times up. It’s four” The boys looked at Suzanne with the eyes of someone wishing they had a mud pie ready to throw. Suzanne continued “Now four…that would be either your IQ, or the number of times you’ll be divorced before your 30.” GASP! Huh!?! Gasp! gAsP! Everyone gasped. “DIVORCE!?” WHAT? HUH? That word just wasn’t a part of the vocabulary of Gruberville. People just stuck together through the tough times. Not one of the kids standing there could remember anyone getting a divorce since they were born. And it just seemed like a dirty word to most people. “What’d I say?” Suzanne asked shyly, like a fox knocking on the door to the hen house. Nobody said a word. The boys just turned back around and headed to school once again.

Friday May 9th 7:50 am:
Slamming their locker doors simultaneously, the boy’s turn and see Mrs. Stintenhutt heading toward the Principles office. He was a veteran and was going to be a part of today’s history lesson and all the schools up coming activities leading up to the Memorial Day festivities later this month. But now, standing in the door way blocking Stephen and Jarred from getting in, Suzanne started talking real sweet. “You know boys, my dad is having a swimming pool and game room put in at our house. You could come over sometime.” “Really?” Stephen happily asked. “What’s the catch?” Jarred interjected. Stephen tended to be more of the optimist, while Jarred’s pessimistic side usually balanced it out. Good thing too, usually. “There’s no catch. Did you boys see that ugly green dress that Mrs. Stinky…..what is that silly name you funny boys call her?” Finally, someone appreciates their humor. “Stinkybutt!” they replied together. “And that will be two days detention for you two boys.” Mr. Fricklemier said from behind. The boys jumped and jerked around to see their teacher and principle standing right behind them. “We uh,………ya see, Suz uh,….she uh……well she was uh….” The boys stuttered and stammered around their tongues. “That will be enough.” Mrs. Stintenhutt said. The boys turned again to see that Suzanne was long gone and now at her desk sitting ever so quietly with her hands clasped together and a slightly evil grin on her lips. “That Bi….”
“Stephen Myers! You watch your mouth young man.” Stintenhutt interupeted. “But I wasn’t gonna…” he tried to defend. “You two just go sit down at your desks.” She finished. The boys glared at Suzanne as they sat down. ‘The BOB’, that was in the room, all snickered, and the rest al the class just looked dazed and confused. Suzanne had been setting the boys up the whole time. She tricked them, and it wasn’t going to be the last time………

Henry the Dog.

May, A Month of MADAM Mayhem 2 ! ! !

Wednesday May 7th 11:20 am:
The recess bell rang. The kids scattered about putting their books in their desks. Only Suzanne got up from her desk and headed toward the door. She didn’t even look back to see why no one else wasn’t getting up. Everyone else had their hands folded on top of their desks. They just sat there quietly. Just as Suzanne stepped into the hallway, Mrs. Stintenhutt made her request. “Miss Cooper, please return to your seat. We ALL wait until everyone has put away their books before we are dismissed.” Reluctantly, with eyes rolling in their sockets, Suzanne came back in and sat down. Mrs. Stintenhutt turned to erase the board, slowly. It seemed like an eternity to the kids, but it was merely a total of 1 ½ minutes. “You are all dismissed.” she said.

Wednesday May 7th 11:23 am:
The kids from all the other classes were already out in the playground when Mrs. Stintenhutt’s class arrived. Suzanne walked, as elegantly as a sixth grader can walk, over to the picnic tables. Wouldn’t you know she would pick the one table where “the BOB” always sit? She couldn’t pick the one around the corner, sort of hidden behind the large old oak tree. Nope, lil’ miss Suzanne picked the one spot that most everyone knew not to sit at. IT was the table of “the BOB”, and your life would be made miserable if you challenged that. I wasn’t allowed on the playground during school hours, so I sat out side the fence. Puppy Discrimination I think.

Everyone on the playground got real quiet as the girls approached their table. All ears were poised, trying to listen to what was being said. And where was the playground monitor while the battlefield was brewing to explode? She was just around the corner talking with the Lunch Lady about her trip to the beauty salon and how fabulous her new hairstyle was. So while I was forced to sit outside the fence, and was bouncing my eyes back and forth amongst all the potential warriors and innocent by-standers, I could barely keep focus on what was being said, when someone knocked someone else’s purse off of the table. Then suddenly there was a hand grabbing hair, a kick to the ankle, a word or two or ten (who could count that fast) ‘Barrr arr arr arr. Move out of the way. I can’t see.’ I said. Another hand reached for hair and only got sweater, just before another kick, a scratch to the arm, and finally the recess whistle sounded. No…the monitor still didn’t know what was going on, and I wasn’t sure since not one of those bony butts I hollered at would move out of my way. At the sound of the whistle, layer-by-layer of kids fled the fight for the cafeteria entrance.

Wednesday May 7th 12:02 pm:
You could almost hear everyone chewing and swallowing it was so quiet. Stephen and Jarred didn’t even notice the pathetic excuse for a fight outside, or the insufferable quiet at the lunch tables. They were too busy outside burning an ant mound with magnifying glasses, and now they were snorting spaghetti up one nostril and blowing it out the other side. Jarred was a pro at this, and Stephen was fast learning to wipe the sauce off first, then to start snorting. When only one kid at the boy’s table laughed and it kind of echoed in the room, then the boys finally noticed the silence. “Why’s it so quiet in here?” the boys echoed one another. Fast Freddy (nick-named because the boy sometimes seemed to talk at sonic speeds) jumped up from the next table, ran over to the boys, and proceeded to tell them all they missed on the playground. “I’ll bet that Suzanne started the whole thing.” Jarred stated. “Snotty rich kid.” Stephen added. For one small moment in time, the boys felt bad for “the BOB”, and glared over at the table at which Suzanne was now sitting alone. After a 3 minute debate on how to best put Suzy Moo Chew in her place, (Moo Chew was for the way she chewed her gum. Students weren't supposed to have or chew gum at school, but then this was just the beginning of a long line of “Suzanne Cooper, spit out that gum...”) Mindy and Rhonda, “the BOB’s” enforcers, (aka Brutus and Droopy on steroids. Mindy was Brutus, and Rhonda was Droopy O.S.) got up and walked over to Suzanne’s table. “Oh man, here come the fireworks.” Stephen said as he stood up to see more clearly. “Brute and Droop are gonna pulverize her.” Jarred concurred. The Enforcers stood by Suzanne’s table for about a minute speaking so softly that no one else could hear. Then all of the sudden, they sat down, and talked for another 2 minutes and then with faces as calm as could be got up and walked back to “the BOB’s” table. The tension in the room was thicker than the Lunch Ladies mustache. And she needed a wax job BAD. Then with the noise of her lunch tray moving all the heads and eyes of every other kid in the cafeteria turned in unison from watching the enforcers over to Suzanne. She then stood up, grabbed her tray, strutted over to “the BOB’s” table, and just when everyone was anticipating that she would dump her tray on the other girls…she sat down. Tension in the room lifted quickly as all the girls started to whisper and giggle.

Stephen sat back down, and he and Jarred just starred at one another. The look of “What just happened here?” quickly turned into “Oh CRAP! SHE’S JOINED THE BOB!” they said as if in one voice. Many horrifying thoughts flooded the boy’s minds. “That completes “THE WORD”. Jarred said looking fearfully over at Stephen. Stephen spelled out the initials “M.O.N.S.T.E.R. and now S.” Jarred then added “And you know something…there is only one thing worse than Monsters!?!” Stephen smacked his hand to his forehead and said “Monsters with money.” The boys looked over at each other with despair in their eyes. “THE SLUMBER PARTY RECORDINGS!” Jarred said. “They’ll have help and resources to find them now. WE GOTTA MAKE MORE COPIES” “Awe man,” Stephen almost whimpered. “We’ve gotta get busy, or”…they finished the sentence together “WE”RE DOOMED.”

Henry the Dog.

May, A Month of MADAM Mayhem 1 ! ! !

Saturday May 3rd 7:30 am:
A semi tractor-trailer rolls into Gruberville and unloads a museum (though parts looked like they belonged in a mausoleum) load of things into the only mansion in town. The manor sat at the end of Daniel Street. Named for the son of Clem Gruber, the founder of our great little town. This huge house was once a brothel, but only a few of the ole’ timers even remember those days. Mr. and Mrs. Cooper pulled up in their Rolls Royce along with Rochester and Rudolf their Romanian Hairless Prize Winning Cats. To follow, the day after, would be their only child Suzanne. She was twelve going on twenty-one. At least that’s what her attitude reflected. According to her diary she was pretty sure that if she put her mind to it she could snap you in half with just a look. Oh. God bless Gruberville, because a pre-teen form of wickedness has come to town.

Monday May 5th 1:30 pm:
Mrs. Cooper, after a late night on the phone to tell all her friends about this tiny town, awoke around noon to realize she had no time to ready herself for public and decided to send their Butler/Driver Sampson over to the school with the paperwork needed to have Suzanne registered for school. How Motherly of her! “Oh Sampson!” she called with her drawn out, sadly simulated, southern accent.

Tuesday May 6th 8:00 am:
Mr. Cooper and Suzanne (she preferred Suzanne over Sue, or Suzy) walked from the now illegally parked Rolls, to the main office of Gruberville Middle School. “Good Morning! Can I help you:?” asked Miss Johnson the school secretary. Mr. Cooper began “My names is Mr. Cooper, and this is my daugh…..” interrupting Suzanne spews out “I can tell her myself Daddy!” Looking back at Miss Johnson “My name is Suzanne Cooper. I’m twelve years old, and will be attending Mrs. Stintenhutts class. So if you would be so kind as to direct me to my classroom, my father and I will be on our way out of this tiny room you call an office.” Miss Johnson, having worked for an upper class private school for 5 years, just ground her teeth a bit behind her slowly fading smile (wishing she could shove a bar of soap into the teeth of this snot nosed brat and maybe wash away her attitude.), looked at Mr. Cooper and said “Sir, your daughters class is down the hall, turn right at the intersection, and is the third door on the left.” Mr. Cooper smiled kind of apologetically, and said thank you. It wasn’t he who had brought the young child into the highest level of SNOB. That was Mrs. Cooper and her twin sister Clair. Anyway, Miss Johnson heard little Suzanne say “Isn’t it quaint Daddy? She things that she needs to point, to give directions. Polite must not be in her vocabulary.” It was all Miss Johnson could do to keep her hand from grabbing the principles paddle and then jumping over the counter to apply the board of education to the seat of knowledge. Mr. Cooper placed his hand on the small of Suzanne’s back and gently guided her out into the hall.

Suzanne opened the door, walked right in and up to the teachers desk, and interrupted the lesson and announced the who, what, when, and where of her existence. Speaking quickly and enunciating nearly every word, she left nothing but the skeleton in the family closet out. The skeleton was actually from a Professorship, that Mr. Cooper held at a prestigious college. For a moment there, but only a moment, Suzanne (as always) thought that she was in total control of everything and everyone. She had a way about her that seemed to command sometimes. Well, that’s what she thought. The other kids in the class were silent and sat thinking that she was just a spoiled rotten brat, that needed placed over someones knee to have that educational knowledge implanted. Mrs. Stintenhutt promptly stepped from the chalkboard over next to Suzanne and said “Are you are quite finished young lady?” “Yes I am.” was the reply. “They you can walk yourself out of my class room, quietly closing the door behind you. You will then stand out in the hallway for 5 minutes giving thought to how incredibly rude you just were disrupting my class and stealing time from myself and my students with your nonsense. Then you may Knock on my classroom door, and wait for me to either open it or grant you permission to come in. Am I being understood Miss Cooper?” Shocked and amazed at Mrs. Stintenhutt’s remarks, poise, and articulation, a now trimmed down attitude answered “Yes Ma’am.” It was pretty much the only record of someone truly putting lil miss Suzanne in her proper place of humility at school. She eventually would have most of the faculty wrapped around her little finger with the potential of Daddy making donations to the school.

And May, continues…
Henry