Categories > Movies > Breakfast Club > This Means War!
Brian, Boats, and Cheese
0 reviewsWhat happens when three boys use a bond created to help one another out? Time served as lunch ladies that's what! Detailed summary inside. 3 part peice.
1Insightful
Disclaimer: I do not own the Breakfast Club
Summary: The challenge: Write a story about Brian (from his POV or in third person) set AFTER detention. The story should be about Brian and one other member of the Breakfast Club getting in trouble together. How this happens is up to you.
Guidelines:
1. it should be a one-shot, 500 words or more.
2. It can be written for any genre (romance, drama, comedy, adventure, etc.).
3. The story must be primarily about Brian and one other member of the BC (your choice).
4. You have to post the story on this site, then report back to us so that we can enjoy your story.
... ... ...
This Means War!
... ... ...
People were pretty damn cruel...that was one thing that he knew for sure.
Sure he had deserved to be where he was, and sure it was making up for the costs of the damage he had inflicted on school property, but he wasn't sure if he would even wish this punishment on his worst enemy.
"Dork! I want some damn cheese!" said the hulking, burly football player in front of him.
Brian nodded his head solemnly and dunked the silver ladle in an equally silver pot of steaming hot, processed liquid cheese. It wasn't the most appealing sight he had seen; of course fatty foods like this were never served in the Johnson household. Nope, it was always very healthy three course meals cooked up there.
'All the food groups are represented...did your mom marry Mr. Rogers?'
Brian chuckled at the memory and was instantly knocked away from his thoughts when a low, menacing growl was erupted from the beast of a kid in front of him.
"You dropped my fucking cheese on my shoes, brainiac!"
Brian bit his lower lip and tried to rake his hand through his hair, forgetting about the hair net that was set in place. "Look buddy, um...I'm really sorry, you know...it was an accid..."
Before he could finish his sentence the larger boy's tray was thrown back over the counter towards Brian - who just made it out of the way - and the football star slammed his hands down on the surface. "I want some new food, dammit!"
"Yes...right away."
As he began picking up the contents of the older boy's tray off of the tiled floor, Brian's thoughts drifted back to the day of the incident that landed him in here in the first place.
... ... ... (FLASH BACK) ... ... ...
His palms were very sweaty...in fact he never remembered ever being that wet from nerves. His face was pale all day and he had felt like he was ready to be hit by a garbage truck. In all of his life he never had felt the variety of emotions that he had felt that one day all bundled into one whirl pooling pit in his stomach.
He had just found out the previous morning that his shop teacher, Mr. Ramsey, was failing him due to an incomplete project - a god damned ceramic elephant lamp. It was the first time in his life that he had ever handed in an incomplete project; it was the first time in his entire life that he had been told - by a teacher - that it was not good enough. It was the first time in his entire existence that he was told that he was going to fail.
And to think that he originally took the class to maintain his honor level G.P.A.
He couldn't for the life of him comprehend how it happened. He couldn't quite pin point if he had forgotten something, or if he had wired it wrong, or just designed incorrectly. He had no idea where he had went wrong and for the first time ever he had felt a sense of loss, disappointment, and embarrassment.
Brian Johnson had officially lost the honor role, officially lost his G.P.A, officially lost his dignity, and officially lost the love and support of his over expecting parents.
Of course they had no idea what was going on; not what happened yesterday and not what was going on right then.
He held the medium sized, olive green box tightly in his hands as he stood in front of his locker; gaze frozen solid on the object. There wasn't anything particularly special about the box...it was what the box had held inside.
His dad was a boater. Every summer they went down to Lake Michigan to go boating for - usually - one week. They had this great boat called the 'Point Dexter'; it had a cabin in the bottom with three beds - one double and a set of bunk beds. His whole family - his parents, himself, and his sister - would spend the entire week on the boat singing, fishing, swimming, tubing and other fun activities that weren't too dangerous. Being on the boat was the only time of the year that there really wasn't any fighting amongst his parents and the children. It was the only time of the year that he felt peace and liberty.
So when he felt lost and alone the only place he could think to go is into his father's double garage and into the boat with the large blue cover over the roof. He sat in the driver's seat of the boat for many moments until he reached into a small compartment next to the ignition and pulled out the box.
He had stared at the box for a few more moments before he decided to sneak it into the house. His parents had been doing the dishes in the kitchen at the time, so it was no problem getting it upstairs into his bedroom.
After he had the door shut behind him he felt an odd sense of excitement and exhilaration. He had snuck an object - a weapon - from his peaceful place and into his bedroom and under his bed.
His parents never even knew.
He hardly slept a wink that night knowing that the object was in his closet. He almost felt like it was calling out to him; calling him a sneak, a coward, a failure. The mere presence of the object haunted him to no end; for the only moment throughout the entire ordeal he had gotten over his fear and resentment of his mother and father only to replace it with sympathy. They were going to get the call that he was dead, they were going to have to pay for his funeral, and they were going to have to tell all of their upscale friends that yes, it was their son - the failure - who painted the bathroom stall at school with his brains.
Yes, at least he ended it all in the place he 'loved' most.
And of course from that thought the fear and resentment had returned replacing all of the sympathies that he had left.
And now he stood in the hallway at school, walking away from his locker where the medium sized, green box sat. It sat in the small compartment taunting and haunting his thoughts. He had taken it out of the box once that morning to get a good look and feel of it, only to have to shove it back in there as quickly as possible to not have gotten caught by his snoopy little sister.
First and second period flew by like it was nothing. Third period had gone by a little longer. In fourth period, the seconds went by like hours.
Lunchtime was next and he had everything planned out. He was going to go to his locker, put his books away, go eat lunch with his friends, 'visit' the bathroom and go ahead with his plan. He just wanted to see his friends one last time before he did it; and give David his Swiss rolls that he owed him from last week.
When he had gotten to his locker that was when all hell had broken loose. He left class a few moments early to get to the cafeteria fast. He was the only child in the hallway at the time; only one man stood at the end of the hallway...a janitor.
He opened his locker quickly and dropped his backpack at the bottom of the locker with a thud. He turned his back momentarily to get a drink from the fountain just across the hall when the explosion went off. It sent him to the floor.
Not from impact, but from pure freezing fear.
He remembered the pounding footsteps from the janitor running towards him, and the doors from all of the classrooms opening to see what all the fuss was about.
He remembered the janitor repeatedly asking him his name, and if he was okay.
The janitor told him that he would be fine, and that his name was Carl. Carl was going to help him clean up the mess. Mr. Ryan from room 206 had come over from the classroom three doors down on the left to investigate.
That was when he had found the ceramic elephant, his back pack, and then underneath - the gun.
He must have left the safety off or something when he had pulled the gun out of the box that morning. The force of the impact of his back pack landing on the box must have triggered it off. And of course this was all he could think about now that the lunch bell had rang and he was sitting on the floor surrounded by a friendly janitor, a furious teacher, curious onlookers, and the charred remains of all of his belongings and that damned elephant that had started everything in the first place.
He had been sent to the principal's office for the remainder of the day until his father had come and picked him up. He had been reprimanded with two Saturday detentions and a job in the cafeteria at lunch time serving food to students in order to pay for the damages done.
One good punishment, and one disgustingly disturbing punishment.
... ... ...
He put the remainder of the tray's contents right side up and then disposed of them into the garbage container to his right. He looked back up at the hungry jock. "What would you like now?"
The now very hungry and very angry jock had rolled his eyes and slammed his fists down on the counter. "The EXACT THING I ordered before pip squeak! Now get movin'!"
Brian nodded his head and began rapidly trying to remember what exactly it was the boy had ordered before he had gone drifting off into dream land. There was the cheese...yes; the cheese is what started everything.
Brian slowly looked up at the boy when he placed the cheese onto the tray. "What did you want with your cheese, sir?"
The boy's face turned an unnatural shade of red. "You little freak! Are you stupid or something? I outta come over that counter and pound you a new one!"
"You aren't gonna jump over any counter and give anyone a new anything!"
Brian had never been so happy to hear the voice of his ever heroic - and strong - friend, Andrew Clark.
The jock turned towards Andy and his face had instantly lost the red color and scowl. "Huh?"
He looked at Brian and smiled. "You working as a lunch lady, Bry?"
Brian scratched the back of his head and blushed a bit. "Well I..."
"Well you nothin' you incompetent idiot, get me my damn mashed potatoes and chicken!"
Andy cocked an eyebrow. "Brian don't tell me you are getting hassled over fucking potatoes!" He began laughing that hyena-like infamous laugh of his.
"Shut up Clark!" The other boy bellowed.
That was when Andy got angry. Andy didn't like to be told what to do, let alone be put in his place. He had a temper that way.
He reached over the counter and into Brian's bowl of mashed potatoes and grabbed two large handfuls and plopped them onto the boy's plate - also hitting a nearby group of pot heads and some cheerleaders - a chorus of 'ew's' and 'that's gross'' soon following.
He then grabbed a handful of chicken legs - much to Brian's horror - and squished them into the middle of the boy's awfully unappetizing pile of mashed potatoes. Topping it off with the cheese - which conveniently - and once again - dripped over the tray and onto Mr. Big shot's new pair of shoes.
Surprisingly the bigger boy said nothing to Andy (who looked like he was getting extremely hungry himself) and only looked at Brian with sheer anger in his eyes. "Now look what you have done! My new shoes are fucked, and I have no fucking lunch! You're dead!"
"Come on I'm getting hungry over here!" Came a voice from a few places down in the line.
Just when he was about to slam the tray down on the counter and grab Brian by the collar of the shirt, Andy had flipped the tray over into the boy's chest eying Brian to follow in his lead. Even though he knew he could get into some trouble, there were two things that Brian and Andy had learned in detention the day that they had met:
1) Not to let people run all over them.
2) Let loose, because, what's bizarre? They're all a little bizarre and if they couldn't think for themselves and have a little fun then they were going to be trapped in a miserable life forever.
So Brian did the only logical thing he could think to do at that point in time. He grabbed a handful of potatoes and a bowlful of cheese and threw it in front of him. Some hitting the mean boy, some hitting Andy, and some hitting a table of girls behind them.
And of course the stoners nearby being the stoners that they were had to yell 'food fight!' and the whole place erupted into a mess. Brian and Andy bailed quickly though, laughing the entire way out into the parking lot.
And of course Andrew was right there beside him in the cafeteria the next week serving chili fries and lasagna. Both boys having to clean the mess they started, and having to sit in detention - once again - and repay the school for any 'psychological damage' inflicted, or so they said. What mashed potatoes had to do with psychological trauma was beyond their knowledge.
All was well with the new job until one John Bender encountered them in line.
They put the first food fight to shame.
Summary: The challenge: Write a story about Brian (from his POV or in third person) set AFTER detention. The story should be about Brian and one other member of the Breakfast Club getting in trouble together. How this happens is up to you.
Guidelines:
1. it should be a one-shot, 500 words or more.
2. It can be written for any genre (romance, drama, comedy, adventure, etc.).
3. The story must be primarily about Brian and one other member of the BC (your choice).
4. You have to post the story on this site, then report back to us so that we can enjoy your story.
... ... ...
This Means War!
... ... ...
People were pretty damn cruel...that was one thing that he knew for sure.
Sure he had deserved to be where he was, and sure it was making up for the costs of the damage he had inflicted on school property, but he wasn't sure if he would even wish this punishment on his worst enemy.
"Dork! I want some damn cheese!" said the hulking, burly football player in front of him.
Brian nodded his head solemnly and dunked the silver ladle in an equally silver pot of steaming hot, processed liquid cheese. It wasn't the most appealing sight he had seen; of course fatty foods like this were never served in the Johnson household. Nope, it was always very healthy three course meals cooked up there.
'All the food groups are represented...did your mom marry Mr. Rogers?'
Brian chuckled at the memory and was instantly knocked away from his thoughts when a low, menacing growl was erupted from the beast of a kid in front of him.
"You dropped my fucking cheese on my shoes, brainiac!"
Brian bit his lower lip and tried to rake his hand through his hair, forgetting about the hair net that was set in place. "Look buddy, um...I'm really sorry, you know...it was an accid..."
Before he could finish his sentence the larger boy's tray was thrown back over the counter towards Brian - who just made it out of the way - and the football star slammed his hands down on the surface. "I want some new food, dammit!"
"Yes...right away."
As he began picking up the contents of the older boy's tray off of the tiled floor, Brian's thoughts drifted back to the day of the incident that landed him in here in the first place.
... ... ... (FLASH BACK) ... ... ...
His palms were very sweaty...in fact he never remembered ever being that wet from nerves. His face was pale all day and he had felt like he was ready to be hit by a garbage truck. In all of his life he never had felt the variety of emotions that he had felt that one day all bundled into one whirl pooling pit in his stomach.
He had just found out the previous morning that his shop teacher, Mr. Ramsey, was failing him due to an incomplete project - a god damned ceramic elephant lamp. It was the first time in his life that he had ever handed in an incomplete project; it was the first time in his entire life that he had been told - by a teacher - that it was not good enough. It was the first time in his entire existence that he was told that he was going to fail.
And to think that he originally took the class to maintain his honor level G.P.A.
He couldn't for the life of him comprehend how it happened. He couldn't quite pin point if he had forgotten something, or if he had wired it wrong, or just designed incorrectly. He had no idea where he had went wrong and for the first time ever he had felt a sense of loss, disappointment, and embarrassment.
Brian Johnson had officially lost the honor role, officially lost his G.P.A, officially lost his dignity, and officially lost the love and support of his over expecting parents.
Of course they had no idea what was going on; not what happened yesterday and not what was going on right then.
He held the medium sized, olive green box tightly in his hands as he stood in front of his locker; gaze frozen solid on the object. There wasn't anything particularly special about the box...it was what the box had held inside.
His dad was a boater. Every summer they went down to Lake Michigan to go boating for - usually - one week. They had this great boat called the 'Point Dexter'; it had a cabin in the bottom with three beds - one double and a set of bunk beds. His whole family - his parents, himself, and his sister - would spend the entire week on the boat singing, fishing, swimming, tubing and other fun activities that weren't too dangerous. Being on the boat was the only time of the year that there really wasn't any fighting amongst his parents and the children. It was the only time of the year that he felt peace and liberty.
So when he felt lost and alone the only place he could think to go is into his father's double garage and into the boat with the large blue cover over the roof. He sat in the driver's seat of the boat for many moments until he reached into a small compartment next to the ignition and pulled out the box.
He had stared at the box for a few more moments before he decided to sneak it into the house. His parents had been doing the dishes in the kitchen at the time, so it was no problem getting it upstairs into his bedroom.
After he had the door shut behind him he felt an odd sense of excitement and exhilaration. He had snuck an object - a weapon - from his peaceful place and into his bedroom and under his bed.
His parents never even knew.
He hardly slept a wink that night knowing that the object was in his closet. He almost felt like it was calling out to him; calling him a sneak, a coward, a failure. The mere presence of the object haunted him to no end; for the only moment throughout the entire ordeal he had gotten over his fear and resentment of his mother and father only to replace it with sympathy. They were going to get the call that he was dead, they were going to have to pay for his funeral, and they were going to have to tell all of their upscale friends that yes, it was their son - the failure - who painted the bathroom stall at school with his brains.
Yes, at least he ended it all in the place he 'loved' most.
And of course from that thought the fear and resentment had returned replacing all of the sympathies that he had left.
And now he stood in the hallway at school, walking away from his locker where the medium sized, green box sat. It sat in the small compartment taunting and haunting his thoughts. He had taken it out of the box once that morning to get a good look and feel of it, only to have to shove it back in there as quickly as possible to not have gotten caught by his snoopy little sister.
First and second period flew by like it was nothing. Third period had gone by a little longer. In fourth period, the seconds went by like hours.
Lunchtime was next and he had everything planned out. He was going to go to his locker, put his books away, go eat lunch with his friends, 'visit' the bathroom and go ahead with his plan. He just wanted to see his friends one last time before he did it; and give David his Swiss rolls that he owed him from last week.
When he had gotten to his locker that was when all hell had broken loose. He left class a few moments early to get to the cafeteria fast. He was the only child in the hallway at the time; only one man stood at the end of the hallway...a janitor.
He opened his locker quickly and dropped his backpack at the bottom of the locker with a thud. He turned his back momentarily to get a drink from the fountain just across the hall when the explosion went off. It sent him to the floor.
Not from impact, but from pure freezing fear.
He remembered the pounding footsteps from the janitor running towards him, and the doors from all of the classrooms opening to see what all the fuss was about.
He remembered the janitor repeatedly asking him his name, and if he was okay.
The janitor told him that he would be fine, and that his name was Carl. Carl was going to help him clean up the mess. Mr. Ryan from room 206 had come over from the classroom three doors down on the left to investigate.
That was when he had found the ceramic elephant, his back pack, and then underneath - the gun.
He must have left the safety off or something when he had pulled the gun out of the box that morning. The force of the impact of his back pack landing on the box must have triggered it off. And of course this was all he could think about now that the lunch bell had rang and he was sitting on the floor surrounded by a friendly janitor, a furious teacher, curious onlookers, and the charred remains of all of his belongings and that damned elephant that had started everything in the first place.
He had been sent to the principal's office for the remainder of the day until his father had come and picked him up. He had been reprimanded with two Saturday detentions and a job in the cafeteria at lunch time serving food to students in order to pay for the damages done.
One good punishment, and one disgustingly disturbing punishment.
... ... ...
He put the remainder of the tray's contents right side up and then disposed of them into the garbage container to his right. He looked back up at the hungry jock. "What would you like now?"
The now very hungry and very angry jock had rolled his eyes and slammed his fists down on the counter. "The EXACT THING I ordered before pip squeak! Now get movin'!"
Brian nodded his head and began rapidly trying to remember what exactly it was the boy had ordered before he had gone drifting off into dream land. There was the cheese...yes; the cheese is what started everything.
Brian slowly looked up at the boy when he placed the cheese onto the tray. "What did you want with your cheese, sir?"
The boy's face turned an unnatural shade of red. "You little freak! Are you stupid or something? I outta come over that counter and pound you a new one!"
"You aren't gonna jump over any counter and give anyone a new anything!"
Brian had never been so happy to hear the voice of his ever heroic - and strong - friend, Andrew Clark.
The jock turned towards Andy and his face had instantly lost the red color and scowl. "Huh?"
He looked at Brian and smiled. "You working as a lunch lady, Bry?"
Brian scratched the back of his head and blushed a bit. "Well I..."
"Well you nothin' you incompetent idiot, get me my damn mashed potatoes and chicken!"
Andy cocked an eyebrow. "Brian don't tell me you are getting hassled over fucking potatoes!" He began laughing that hyena-like infamous laugh of his.
"Shut up Clark!" The other boy bellowed.
That was when Andy got angry. Andy didn't like to be told what to do, let alone be put in his place. He had a temper that way.
He reached over the counter and into Brian's bowl of mashed potatoes and grabbed two large handfuls and plopped them onto the boy's plate - also hitting a nearby group of pot heads and some cheerleaders - a chorus of 'ew's' and 'that's gross'' soon following.
He then grabbed a handful of chicken legs - much to Brian's horror - and squished them into the middle of the boy's awfully unappetizing pile of mashed potatoes. Topping it off with the cheese - which conveniently - and once again - dripped over the tray and onto Mr. Big shot's new pair of shoes.
Surprisingly the bigger boy said nothing to Andy (who looked like he was getting extremely hungry himself) and only looked at Brian with sheer anger in his eyes. "Now look what you have done! My new shoes are fucked, and I have no fucking lunch! You're dead!"
"Come on I'm getting hungry over here!" Came a voice from a few places down in the line.
Just when he was about to slam the tray down on the counter and grab Brian by the collar of the shirt, Andy had flipped the tray over into the boy's chest eying Brian to follow in his lead. Even though he knew he could get into some trouble, there were two things that Brian and Andy had learned in detention the day that they had met:
1) Not to let people run all over them.
2) Let loose, because, what's bizarre? They're all a little bizarre and if they couldn't think for themselves and have a little fun then they were going to be trapped in a miserable life forever.
So Brian did the only logical thing he could think to do at that point in time. He grabbed a handful of potatoes and a bowlful of cheese and threw it in front of him. Some hitting the mean boy, some hitting Andy, and some hitting a table of girls behind them.
And of course the stoners nearby being the stoners that they were had to yell 'food fight!' and the whole place erupted into a mess. Brian and Andy bailed quickly though, laughing the entire way out into the parking lot.
And of course Andrew was right there beside him in the cafeteria the next week serving chili fries and lasagna. Both boys having to clean the mess they started, and having to sit in detention - once again - and repay the school for any 'psychological damage' inflicted, or so they said. What mashed potatoes had to do with psychological trauma was beyond their knowledge.
All was well with the new job until one John Bender encountered them in line.
They put the first food fight to shame.
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