Chapter 12

Jessica Flirty, drop dead gorgeous blond was held captive against a goal post, secured to it by yellow, industrial grade duct tape. The football field was surrounded by a running track, as the field and the track belonged to the school.

Jake Riesstiu paced around the Goal post that Jessica was bound to. His un-tucked white dress shirt was tattered and stained. Jake's face was glazed in sweat, and his hair was messy, despite the tons of hair gel he uses.

Jessica looked forward with a grim expression on her pretty face. Jake than faced Jessica, and looked her in the eye. Jessica seemed to look through Jake.

Jake lifted his hand, gently, to stroke Jessica's face. Jessica weakly moved her face away from Jake's hand, in a feline like way, and looked down with a grim, hopeless expression on her pretty face, that had become stained with dirt.

Jake, with his face twisted with insanity, tried to stroke her head, and Jessica weakly resisted.

"Why are you struggling?" Jake asked, "You haven't done this to me before."

"This is not before," Jessica said, weakly, and without looking at Jake, "this is now. I don't love you anymore Jake."

"Don't love me?" Jake repeated, with anger growing inside him.

"No, times change, Jake. Live with it." Jessica replied pushing strength into her reply.

"I won't deal with it, I'm doing what's right for you. What's good for you is that you have higher standards than Dan. You want to marry me, don't you? I'm rich, and with me, I can make you famous. I can have the entire school bow down to you. I have everything and more to give you.

With Dan, what do you have?"

"With Dan," Jessica said, still weakly, and still not making eye contact, "I will have someone who has looks, but doesn't let power go to their heads. I'd rather be with him, than be with you."

Jessica turned to Jake, than looked him deeply in the eye with a firm, gripping stare.

"You need help, Jake," she said, "you're sick. You wouldn't be treating me like this if you were healthy."

"I'm sick?" Jake repeated, with rage growing inside of him, "I am not sick!"

"Look at what you're doing to yourself, Jake," Jessica repeated in tone that was caring and cold at the same time, "you're loosing a grip on your sanity. Look at what you've done to me. Do you think you should do that your girlfriend?"

Jake fumbled with his thoughts inside of his head.

His rage grew inside him, and pulled at his thoughts.

"I'm not loosing grip!" Jake shouted, and panted quietly after that.

"YOU ARE, TAIIDAN SPY," GAN, who was tapped to the goal post with Jessica, "YOU HAVE NO HONOR!"

Peter Elson, the Quarterback of the team, looked at this sickening display of insanity.

Peter couldn't follow Jake's orders anymore, but he couldn't take Jake on alone.

Peter began to slip away into the darkness, and began to trot through the residential district.

Meanwhile, the Firefighters had put out all the little fires, and soaked the charred, burned and overturned car with fire retardant foam. Police set up Police lines around the area, and began taking pictures of Ben's car, the destroyed car, craters, and surrounding dirt.

"It was unlike anything I've seen," a bystander said, talking to Deputy Sheriff Porker, who was taking notes from the witnesses, "I woke up to the sound of my car exploding, and saw some guys in camouflage shooting at a bunch of kids, that looked like they went to private school."

"Did you call 911 at that point," Porker said, after taking down some notes.

"Well," the bystander started, "I thought the guys in camouflage were a SWAT team or the Police or something. I thought Fire trucks were on the way."

"When did you call 911," Porker asked.

"When I thought it was taking very long for the trucks to come, and I called to see if those guys were cops or not."

"The police didn't see anyone in camouflage when they arrived. How did they escape," Porker asked.

"Well, I saw them all pile into this light tan coloured motor home, and they drove off, just as the Fire Department arrived."

The Fire marshal, who was on scene, walked over to the bystander, and handed him a bill.

The bystander looked at the bill, and looked up at the Fire Marshal with a confused and angry look on his face.

"Emergency Response Bill?" He yelled, in confusion.

"What," the Marshal asked, "Do you think I do this job at out of the goodness of my heart?"

The nearby Fire Fighters began to chuckle at the Marshal's statement, than returned to whatever the hell they were doing, wondering around the place, or something. Why the hell would Fire Fighters still be there, if there are no more fires? Seriously!

The Police continued their investigation, in search for the escapees, but the escapees have long escaped.

Dan and his crew were driving around the Residential district, trying to avoid confrontation with the Police. Rob and Robby were taking Dan's and Edward's car, and the rest were in the RV.

The RV turned a corner, when suddenly, it jerked to a stop, shaking the cabin, a bit.

"Boys," Bobby said, "We've got company. Tennis Team is blocking up the road.

Yes, the Tennis Team, with their white headbands, polo shirts and blonde hair, parked their BMW convertibles that their parents gave them in such a fashion that it completely blocked the road. They were being all preppy, with their polo shirts tucked into their kakis, and their sweaters tied over their necks.

"Ah, I do say that the nerds have arrived," A tennis player said.

"If we were the less civilised, proletariat 'gangsters,'" Regonald A. Prepmyre said, "we would brutishly beat on the nerds. However, as we, nearly whorishly, accepted Riesstiu's payment, we must stall these un-gentlemanly nerds for an unknown amount of time."

Dan stepped out of the RV, looking bad ass in a black trench coat over his fatigues, and dark shades over his eyes. He brandished a sawed-off Airsoft shotgun underneath his trench coat. He walked out in a slow fashion, which was a near perfect cross between "Blade" and "The Matrix."

The preps laughed at him in a pompous, nearly girlish laugh.

"Get out of our way, now," Dan instructed, in a badass fashion.

"Oh, really," Prepmyre said, in a pompous tone, "do you really think you can scare us off with your silly cliché outfit and sunglasses. Why would one wear sunglasses in the dead of night? Dear gods, man, if you plan to scare us, at least make a better attempt."

Dan walked towards Prepmyre, and looked straight into his eyes, standing taller than him, for some reason.

"I don't think you understand what I had just said," Dan said, taking off his shades, to reveal completely black eyes, "get out of our way."

Prepmyre began to get nervous, and gave out a choked laugh, before saying, "could we not talk this over, like civilised beings?"

Dan grabbed his shotgun from within his trench coat, whipped it out, and cocked it, pointing it at the air, while holding on to it.

Beads of sweat when down Prepmyre's now pale face, as he shook and gawked in near horror.

"Beat it," Dan ordered.

Dan looked over, at the other tennis players, and saw a Tennis Ball Machine of Doom pointing his direction. He saw the thing begin to operate, and with his sudden heightened senses, jumped up, and did a back flip, in order to dodge the tennis balls that were being shot. Each ball nearly skinned Dan as he flipped, and did near impossible manoeuvres to dodge the balls. More balls were shot at him, and he dodged them, with Matrix-like ease.

Dan's Posse, decked out in fatigues, piled out of their vehicles, and pointed their heavy Airsoft arsenal at the preppy Tennis Team. The tennis players ducked under their cars, avoiding the heavy bombardment of BB rounds, which scratched the paint on their fathers' BMW convertibles. Dan fired a shot out of his shotgun, making visible scrapes on the BMW's windows.

One of the Tennis players grabbed the Tennis ball machine, running from one side of the road as balls shot at the nerds, trying desperately to hit them, but not get shot in the process.

Reginald A. Prepmyre looked up from the hood of the BMW convertible, and looked at the firefight in progress. He opened up the door to his convertible, and dove towards the driver's seat, sacking himself on the gearshift. All of his face muscles tensed, and his speech became very choked.

Dan fired a shot a the Tennis Ball Machine, which caused it to jam, due to the influx of BB rounds.

The Tennis player that was using firing suddenly realised he was unarmed. His fear grew as he knew that a huge swarm of BB rounds was flocking towards his direction. His eyes grew wide as the rounds flew towards him. All the rounds pelted him, and rained on him, like hail, only, it was vertical. The Tennis player curled up into the foetal position, due to the BB rounds causing pain unimaginable to the human body.

A white Ford truck with the phrase "Non-suspicious Vehicle" painted on the sides drove down the street, and towards the firefight. The truck did a U-turn, and the back doors burst open, with a prep behind a, DUN DUN DUNNNNNNN, tennis ball machine.

All of the guys ducked behind any cover they had, be it garbage cans, trees on the lawns, or what have you.

"Shit man," Brandon said, "I didn't see this coming!"

The Tennis player looked onto the heavily armed nerds, as they pointed automatic weaponry at his tennis ball machine.

He stopped fired the machine, as he heard the pops of the automatic weaponry firing BB rounds at him. They were like little pebbles, but on contact, they struck pain through his pompous nervous system.

He keeled over into the fetal position, and shivered in complete pain.

The Tennis players parked their vehicles on the side of the roads, freeing up the road.

Another pair of headlights greeted Dan's posse, as they were regrouping. They noticed that it was another white Ford truck, which said, "Vehicle that DOES NOT HAVE A GUY WITH A TENNIS BALL MACHINE INSIDE," written on it.

The guys all regrouped, with their automatic weapons in their hands, and looked at the Ford truck.

"Hmm," Dan said, "looks like we've pretty much won this round, as we've got all the Preps pinned down, here."

Suddenly, to the unexpectancy of everybody, The Ford truck hangs a U-turn, and skids around, and the back door opens up with something COMPLETELY AND TOTALLY UNEXPECTED!

THIS IS HORRIFICALLY UNEXPECTED THAT NOBODY CAN DARE GUESS WHAT LIES INSIDE THE FORD TRUCK!

What the guys saw in the Ford truck was … a guy with a tennis ball machine! Gasp!

Even I wet my own self at the complete shocking-ness of this revelation!

Dan & Co. dive behind cover, again, and let a hailstorm of pebble like BB rounds from their automatic weapons swarm towards the prep that was lodging Tennis balls at Dan's group as if it were artillery rounds, and was overwhelmed with pain from the BB rounds.

Dan's group got out from their cover, and walked towards the group of preps, cowering behind their scratched BMW convertibles, shaking in complete fear. They pointed their weapons in their best imitation of an elite Army unit.

Ernie McPreppy went towards Jessie Prepsville, both of whom were crouched and scare witless behind their BMW convertible, and leaned over.

"There is only one hope for us now," Ernie said, "the Mighty Morphing Power Rangers!"

Lyrics: Mighty Morphing Power Rangers!

Mighty Morphing Power Rangers!

MITEY MORPHING POWAR RANGARS!!!!!!!!!!!!1@!

The Mighty Morphing Power Rangers stood in the middle of an empty intersection, and just stood there, performing martial arts moves for no practical purpose, just standing there and doing martial arts moves. If there was a camera, it would be zooming in on them and tilting at the same time, just to show how mighty, morphing, powerful, and ranger-like they are.

Mighty Morphing Power Rangers!

They still did nothing, and the Tennis team's hope of them doing anything of any use began to wear thin, but than, the Red Mighty Morphing Power Ranger began to speak. You can tell this because he is moving his head, but the fact that you don't see the lips through his helmet moved doesn't really matter.

"Yes," Ernie said, "the Mighty Morphing Power Rangers are about to do something!"

Lyrics: Mighty Morphing Power Rangers!

Dan's posse looked on, as they knew their automatic Airsoft weapons are powerless against the Rangers, as they only do melodramatic back flips while the voiceover moans in pain when they get hurt.

Lyrics: Mighty Morphing Power Rangers!

"This totally blows," Brandon commented, looking on towards the Mighty Morphing Power Rangers just doing useless martial arts moves.

Suddenly, a car went screeching down the road, and sharply turned, running over the Mighty Morphing Power Rangers, and sending them flying all over the place.

Dan was began to move aside, towards the cover of the bushes, when he felt a vibration on his belt. No, not that type of vibration, the cell phone that Ben Tusi equipped him with.

Dan took cover behind a tree, and took out his cell phone.

"Hello," Dan said, greeting the call.

"Attention Dan Crown, this is Quarterback Elson of the Cooksdale football team. We wish to defect and are in need of assistance. In return, we are prepared to help you. Please respond."

Dan flipped away his cell phone, and saw a few headlights heading down the street, in the opposite direction of the well disguised Ford trucks.

He knew that he was in pursuit by members of the football team, and his car was clearly damaged. The only thing that Dan didn't get was why Elson referred to himself in the first person plural tense.

"Guys," Dan bellowed, signalling to his posse, "this may be a trap, but his car is clearly damaged. Go towards the defecting football player, and assist him."

Right behind him was a van full of rowdy football players, armed with metal objects that hurt when they encounter human skulls. God, how many damn people are on the Cooksdale High football team?

Elson swerved to a stop, with his car facing the side of the road. He jumped out of the car, and slid across the hood to get towards Dan's posse.

"They're coming, and they're pissed off," Elson said, sprinting for dear life.

Dan's posse took aim at the football players, knowing that the going was getting bad. Nevertheless, a bad scenario just got worse, they could hear the howling of Police sirens grow louder and louder, and heard some sort of patting sound.

Dan's posse quickly realised that they had to get out of there, and shoved themselves into the RV, only to discover Derek playing Homeworld inside. They looked at him in an angry manner.

"Um," Derek said, looking up and realising that the guys embarked on another mission, thought of something to say, "I finished level 12."

"No time for kicking his ass," Bobby said, getting into the driver's seat, "we need to get our asses out of hear before the cops find us.

The RV's engine roared to life, and zoomed off, just as the flickering of emergency lights were visible.

The school athletes stood up, and looked towards the source of a patting sound in the sky. Suddenly, a bright light shone down on them, from the source of the patting sound.

"This is the Oregon State Police," the loudspeaker from the hovering police helicopter boosted, "Stay exactly where you are, and put your hands up!"

Just as the RV slipped away from the scene, Police Cars and Police Trucks parked all around the area, with Emergency lights flashing in every which direction. Ford Crown Victoria Police cars had a pair of state troopers each step out of them, and take aim with their sidearms. Heavily armed SWAT team officers, clad in black fatigues and full body armour poured out of the trucks, as they were the only professionals in the entire story who actually look like they know how to look cool with guns. They officers closed in on the school athletes, as they aimed their weapons.

"Everyone get on the ground, slowly," the Helicopter loudspeaker order

The helicopter a spotlight on the apprehension of the athletes like the spotlight of fame shines on blonde, ditzy, attractive women with no talent other than dancing and being an airhead.

The Police were busy aiming loaded weapons and looking all badass, while our heroes were fleeing the scene, under the direction of Quarterback Elson, off to the Karos Salvage yard. Tune in next week, for more wacky shenanigans. Same melodramatic time, Same melodramatic website!