The Pencil in the Rye

Hello? Hello? Are any of you still here? I think I may be jeopardizing my standing in the Worst Blogger Ever contest by posting, but screw it! I've missed you all terribly! Sorry for dropping off the face of the Internet the last couple of months. But I'm back (for now; let's not get too crazy with the promises), and—even more exciting—I've brought pencils with me.

But these aren't just any pencils. They are, like, the pencil equivalent of Jeff from Today's Special. Except they aren't mannequins, don't accessorize with vests and magical hats, and aren't friends with scooter-riding mice. They COME TO LIFE, is what I'm getting at.

Like this, only a pencil. And with less dancing.

[Image courtesy of Megsplace.com, which has way more info on Today's Special for those of you who are not mid-'80s Nickelodeon aficionados but would love to learn more about magical bevested mannequins. Possible disappointment alert: This mannequin does not make out with Andrew McCarthy.]

But where was I? Oh yeah, pencils. Our first inanimate objects were brought to life not by a magical newsboy cap, but by guest author Sarah.

Sarah says: In my school district, they gave you your permanent record when you finished high school, and my old writing competency tests were in there. I wrote this one when I was 8, in 1986.

The Pencil Story

Once there was a pencil who lived in a box. "I would die to get out of this box!" he said. He hated the box and all the other pencils too.

One day a kid with messy hair and grubby fingers picked him up. The boy took him to school. In his desk was a little red pencil "hi" she said. She looked just like him only red!

They had lots of fun together then the weekend came, they decided to run away. The red pencil said "Am I glad to get out of that dump." They went and moved under a low shelf. That was the greatest. They said "let's stick together forever"

Sarah says: I was given the minimum passing score for this story, which is totally unfair because once you look past the bad punctuation, it's basically the Catcher in the Rye of 120-word test essays—except for the uplifting ending where the pencils quit their jobs and live off the grid. Of course, this story does raise some disturbing questions (that no one ever asked because there were no mental health workers in my school. Plus, if you were quiet and did your work, no one ever wondered why your essay was not only written from the viewpoint of an opposite-sex protagonist, but also replete with phallic imagery...). But maybe it doesn't mean anything. Maybe a pencil is just a pencil, and I didn't hate everyone in my class...

Sada says: It's okay, Sarah. I'm glad you got out of that dump. I hope you've moved on to a "low shelf" of your own. I hear that's the greatest.

But don't think you're alone in channeling your preadolescent anxiety through phallic imagery. Part of the reason it took so long to post this (a small part, to be fair, but a part nonetheless) is that after reading Sarah's story, I had the craziest pencils-coming-to-life deja vu and was 99.9% sure that my sister, Genie, had written about the same thing. And? I was right.

Unfortunately, it took me three months to find it.

Pencil Tales offers a bit of a pencil potpourri, if you will (not literally—that probably wouldn't smell very good). It's also partially dedicated to our elementary school gym teacher, Mr. Powell, "who is a special friend, and has taught me many things I'll never forget." Is it just me, or is that a little weird? Especially in light of the whole pencils-being-shaped-like-manbits thing? Or do I just have lingering ill feelings toward Mr. Powell for forcing me to play newcomb?

"PENCIL PALS FOREVER"

Some people think pencils are just used to write with. Well, I'll tell you something, they're not. When you leave school at the end of the day, what do you think us pencils do? We climb out of those little slits in the desk.

Sada says: Freud would have a field day with this.

Well, it was a typical day. I was in my owner's desk, tired because he had used me so much today. The custodians were doing their usual nighttime watch to make sure no one's in the school that's not supposed to be in the school.

Sada says: That's right, the custodians had to clean toilets, sprinkle sawdust on our vomit, and then? They didn't even get to sleep at night! They had discourage intruders from breaking in and stealing high-cost items like the gym parachute or our green-screen Apple IIs. God knows someone had to make sure we could still play Lemonade Stand in the morning!

When I saw the flashlight fade away, I popped the two paint tabs off my eyes. Paint tabs are little tabs of paint that I used to cover my eyes and other things [Sada says: ?!] with, so no one sees my eyes. After I pulled them off, I blinked about 20 times. My eyes adjusted to the light. I pushed 2 other paint tabs off the spots where my arms are, then my legs. I got ready and squeezed out of the slit.

I got up to explore. I was on the chair. I jumped off, and landed standing up. I ran to our usual meeting spot. PiLinda, Paul, Pete, and Petunia were already there.

Sada says: I guess there's a writing utensil law mandating that all pencil names start with the letter P. Hence the extremely catchy "PiLinda."

"Hey, Peggy." Pete greeted me. None of us were related because we got shipped to this school by different pencil companies.

Sada says: Whoa, was that just an allusion to PENCIL SEX? I was unaware that you could breed pencils. They didn't show that kind of stuff on Mr. Rogers.

In related news, I just did a Google image search for "pencils having sex" and came up with nothing. The Internet is useless.

"Hi, what's up? I'm beat. Today my owner bit me. I felt so slimy," I said.

"The feeling is mutual." everyone agreed. They were all older than I, and had many more teeth marks.

I leaned against a piece of paper. I was beat.

Sada says: It's hard out here for a pencil.

Your days are numbered, buddy.

PiLinda's paint tabs were almost all the way back on(she's sleeping).

"PiLinda!!"I called. Her paint tabs pop off and fly half way across the room. She looked surprised, embarassed, and tired at the same time.

"I'm sorry." I tried to look sorry, but I cracked up, not on purpose, but it just all came out at once. Paul and Petunia joined me. Pete looked as serious as ever. We tried to get serious. It worked, kind of.

PiLinda ran away.

"See what you did?" Pete yelled as he followed PiLinda.

I ran after Pete and easily caught up.

"I said I was sorry, and I am." I was getting mad at Pete. I think that PiLinda has an awful bad temper. PiLinda and I are best friends. I met her when I came from a pencil company. I know PiLinda well. I ran past Pete. I almost caught up with PiLinda, but as soon as she saw me she sped up.

Sada says: So basically, a bunch of pissed-off pencils are sprinting around a darkened classroom? Just checking.

Also, it has not escaped my attention that these two are named Peggy and Pete.

You want to hire me to do your pencil portrait now, I know it.

PiLinda was out of breath, so she stopped.

"I'm really sorry."I say.

"That's ok." she says. "I just have been through a lot lately. My mother disappeared and my father's gone too, but, please, try not to tell anybody."

Sada says: You see what happens when you lose a pencil? YOU TEAR A FAMILY APART.

Just then Pete walked up, looking REAL mad.

"Are you all right, PiLinda?" he asked her.

"Yeah, but I really need to talk to Peggy. It's important, but I would appreciate it if you went back and told everybody else we're ok."

Pete nodded, and started jogging back.

Jogging pencil clip art FTW!

(Not that this in any way makes up for the lack of pencils sexing it up.)

(Also, I can't for the life of me figure out why the pencil has fangs. Twilight, must you ruin everything?)

When he was out of sight, PiLinda started again, "Everyone has been ignoring me lately. I feel as if I belong somewhere else..." She caught her breath. "I miss my parents, and lately, I'm so sleepy and mad...but I feel so awful."

"Don't worry." I said and started to cry. "My parents died before I got shipped here." I sniffled.

Sada says: Angst: a universal theme in pencil lit.

"Oh-my-goodness." PiLinda said sadly. "I'm sorry. I didn't know that. I'm really sorry. I am."

"I didn't tell anyone because I didn't want any special treatment." I admitted.

"That's ok, I like you just the way you are, Peggy. Pencil Pals Forever?" she asked and started to giggle about how dorky that sounded.

"Yeah," I laughed. "Pencil Pals Forever."

Sada says: Aaaaaand that's nearly the same ending as the first story, with the disaffected pencils swearing their allegiance to one another. Pencils... so predictable!

If you weren't already in pencil paradise, this story is followed up with some pencil poetry. I'll scan this so you can fully appreciate the genius. It's an acrostic poem, in which the first letter of each line spells the word "PENCILS" (the "L" line is my favorite, btw), but also? Those letters are themselves MADE OF PENCIL.

"PENCILS"

Perfect writing utensils

Erasers at the bottom

Needs to be sharpened when it gets dull

Constructed out of wood

In them is lead

Like pens

Sharp pencils are best

Sada says: In them is actually graphite, but I guess I shouldn't quibble with a fifth grader.

In the book's final installment, Genie gets post-apocalyptic on our asses.

"IF I HAD THE LAST PENCIL IN THE WORLD, I WOULD WRITE..."

If I had the last pencil in the world I would write...

Sada says: The next section is handwritten in pencil. I know that seems like a no-brainer in a book called Pencil Tales, but the rest of it was typed. Perhaps to better impart the seriousness of this message scrawled by the world's lone pencil.

November 14, 2059

I know that in a few hundred years someone will find this and wonder what a pencil was. Pencils were things used for writing. They are made of wood and lead. (I am using a pencil to write this right now. Trees have wood in them. I have heard from my grandmother (who lived in the 90's) When she was a little girl, at her school (and in the whole state) was celebrating "Earth Day."

Sada says: Grammar and punctuation have degenerated by 2059. Also, trees have wood in them!

Earth Day was a time to think about our Earth, how to save it. At my grandmother's school they gave out seedlings to everyone. The purpose was to have 500 children plant them to provide more oxygen for us + more wood, etc. Earth Day also encouraged people to recycle. Obviously, no one did, or there would be a much better Earth today. This pencil is about to brea (k)

BY ARIA KAWILDON

Sada says: The final bit was in pen (which we all know is like pencil) because the last pencil in the world couldn't stand to write another word about the farce that was Earth Day. And apparently the last pencil sharpener in the world bit the dust first.

Here's my question: What kind of damage would we need to do in the next 49 years in order for a fifth grader to wind up with possession of the world's last pencil? Man, we better start recycling!

NEXT TIME: What is quite possibly the storytelling-est picture of all time. It contains an exercise montage. And a third grader with cleavage.

Welcome to Tademy Academy: Part 2

LAST TIME: Our narrator, Frankie "Franks and Beans" Chapman (I am so waiting for someone to address her as "Franks and Beans") and her pals spent upwards of five hours picking out clothing for the first day of 7th grade, only to end up in Aeropostale jeans and Keds. WTF? Meanwhile, they were asked to pledge Tademy Academy's most exclusive "social society"—and unabashed drill team mafia—the Deltas. But in order to join the Deltas, the gals have to do "something spiteful, something forward, something embarrassing, and something scandalous"— and of course, something involving Axe body spray.

When we left off, Frankie had just Dropped the Donut onto the chair of one Ella Gris, leaving her with a Boston Creme backside. Still to come: Fliss must tip Tara Luna's tray in the cafeteria; Kenny will leave a forged love note in Charlotte Reyes' locker; Lyndz has to cut off Casey Wallace's ponytail; and Rosie (the orphaned Texan with the fake British accent) has to rig Raquel Weaver's locker with frogs that will chase her toward a magical banana peel that somehow triggers a bucket of chili to empty its contents onto her head. Like taking candy from a frigging baby!

Baby: Raquel Weaver; Dude with the giant lollipop: Rosie Fine

(Not pictured: Frogs, banana peel, bucket of chili)

As I said last time, our 14-year-old guest author, Kylie, claims she wrote this story when she was in fourth grade—but as Detective TKOG pointed out, Juno was released in 2007 and Bumpits weren't on the market until 2008. Kylie? You can come clean. We don't care if you wrote this last year. One thing we're not disputing is that this story is stellar. Also not in dispute: the fact that I would transfer out of Tademy Academy faster than you can say "bucket of chili."

Welcome to Tademy Academy

Ch. 2

After I DTDed, Fliss collected her ammo. Her weapons of choice: a plate of spaghetti, yogurt, and chocolate milk. She started her walk of shame towards Tara. I was so excited. Who’s dissing my Keds now?

Sada says: So this is the point at which I realized that Tademy's social societies aren't terrorizing unpopular kids—they're going after each other! They're basically warring factions of pretty people. It would be like if the cast of 90210 went to Bayside High, and Lisa Turtle made Brenda Walsh sit on a donut, and then Jessi Spano dumped a bucket of chili on Donna Martin's head. Actually, that sounds kind of awesome.

Fliss walked slowly, with all loose strands of her sunset brown hair tucked behind her ears. Soon, she was right in front of Tara, who had just put her own tray down. Fliss cringed from fear, tilted her tray, and food went flying all over Tara. There was spaghetti in her hair, yogurt all over one of her rich fashion designer shirts, and chocolate milk all over her Skechers.

Sada says: I love how Frankie name-checks Skechers but doesn't specify the "rich fashion designer" behind Tara's shirt.

“ Nice look, Tara,” Fliss said.

“AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH,” Tara yelled. But no one heard her, because they were all pointing and whispering about her. Pointing, whispering, and giggling.

After that, we all went to our dorms.

“Okay, guys,” Kenny said. “How should I write the letter?” After putting our heads together, we wrote this and sprayed it with the Axe.

Kylie says: I am cringing as I read this. I mean, "Who’s dissing my Keds now?" And "ammo"? And "sunset brown hair"? What the hell? And Axe? Oh, what great humiliation!

Sada says: YOU TAKE THAT BACK ABOUT THE AXE! The repeated Axe bashing is one of my favorite things about this story. Or maybe one of my favorite things about anything, ever. Also, wait, are you saying that sunsets in Australia are not brown?

Dearest Darling Charlotte,

I have admired you from afar since the second grade. Maybe you won’t believe me, but I love you. If you say you don’t love me, it will break my heart. So please say yes. If you love me too, meet me by the fountain in the courtyard at your school at 3:00. Don’t worry about missing that assembly. It’s not even mandatory. I know about the assembly because I saw the flyer you designed. You’re the best artist ever! As soon as we meet, we can talk even more about this beautiful relationship in bloom.

XOXO,

Dominick Fitch

We were inspired by the love letter in the book, Bridge to Terabithia, we must admit.

Kylie says: As in, I was really lazy, so I stole half the letter from Bridge to Terabithia.

Sada says: But nice—and not at all creepy—addition about the non-mandatory school assembly. Romantic!

We shoved it into her locker the next day, while it still reeked off Axe. We woke the next morning at 7:00 am and got dressed. Then, we went into the hallway.

“Ew, what’s that smell?”

“I think it’s coming from Charlotte’s locker.”

Charlotte walked into the hall. “ Ew, what died in my locker?” She opened it up, and traced it to the Letter.

Sada says: In case you missed it, Axe body spray? Smells like death.

“Someone has a secret admirer,” said Piper Tademy.

“OOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH.”

“Open the letter,” Kenny insisted sheepishly. She started shuffling her sneakers, and averted her eyes from Charlotte.

After Charlotte read the letter, she sighed and said, “Dominick Fitch.”

The day seemed to drag on and on until Assembly. Then, all eight girls who were in the hall came out to watch. It was 3:30, 4:00, and then the dreaded 4:30.

Sada says: Not the dreaded 4:30! Anything but that!

It had been a full hour, and Dominick hadn’t showed up yet.

Charlotte decided to text him.

From: Charlotte

To: Dominick

Dom, where are you? I’ve been waiting for an hour!!!!

From: Dominick

To: Charlotte

For what?

From: Charlotte

To: Dominick

Aren’t you meeting me to talk about our relationship?????? You wrote me that letter. You do want to meet at the fountain in the courtyard at Tademy Academy, right? Did you mean the fountain in the park? Or the one at Carlyle College?

Sada says: That is SO more than 160 characters. Plus, you could really get your fountains crossed in this town. Yeesh.

From: Dominick

To: Charlotte

I don’t now what you’re talking about. What letter?

From: Charlotte

To: Dominick

The love letter you left me in my locker. It smelled like Axe but that’s totally forgivable.

Sada says: Is it, though? IS IT?

From: Dominick

To: Charlotte

I never wrote you a letter. I don’t even know your last name.

I’m serious.

From: Charlotte

To: Dominick

Oh. I’m sorry I bothered you.

After that, something that never happens happened. Charlotte Reyes screamed, went up to Carter Gonzales-Fiore-Mason-Barnes, her rival, and punched her in the face. It was a very unCharlotte thing to do. Usually, Charlotte would burst into tears and run away. I guess that she finally had enough. At least she didn’t know it was Kenny, or else she would have had a serious nose bleed like Carter.

Kylie says: Carter Gonzales-Fiore-Mason-Barnes???? What the hell was I thinking????

Sada says: This is why two people with hyphenated names should never breed. Take heed, blog readers.

Ch.3

“I feel like a total…..a total…. Ugh, I can’t even say it,” Kenny said.

“Jerk?,” Fliss said.

“Me too.”

“ Ugggh,” I moaned. I didn’t know it would be this bad. Is being a Delta really worth it?

Just then, we heard a knock on our door.

“ I’ll get it,” Rosie shouted.

It was Carter. She had a giant welt on her nose. “ I was wondering if, like, any of you guys had one of those large nose bandages? I kinda need one? The nurse’s office is all out?”

The nurse's office RAN OUT of nose bandages??
Although I guess I can see why the girls at Tademy would be throwing lots of punches.

“What happened to Charlotte,” Kenny asked nervously.

“Like, nothing? Like, I would never tell on a fellow Tademian? I just said someone accidentally threw a volleyball at me? All I know is that I didn’t write that letter? I mean, I hate Charlotte, but not enough to stink up her locker with Axe? I mean, I don’t even own Axe, and….. OHMYGOD!? There is, like, Axe on your dresser? Kenny, it’s like all your fault?

No wonder you looked so, like, ashamed?”

Kylie says: Oh, Carter is a dumbass! At least she catches on fast.

Sada says: She might have a mile-long name and turn every sentence into a question, but Carter Gonzales-Fiore-Mason-Barnes is the only character in this story with ethics. She would never tell on a fellow Tademian, and she flat-out says that she wouldn't wish Axe body spray on her worst enemy.

I realized then that maybe we didn’t want to be Deltas after all. But that was a huge maybe. One part of me didn’t think it was worth it. Another part, the larger part wanted it so badly it would kill.

Sada says: NO. WAY. Did she just imply that it's a short road from Boston creme butt to MURDER? God, I hope Andy Tachman doesn't find out about this. (squeal!)

I didn’t know what to do. All I knew was to be afraid of Carter Gonzalez-Fiore-Mason-Barnes.

******************

“OMG. Kenny, this will really cheer you up,” I said at lunch.

“ It’s worth a shot,” Kenny sighed.

“ Guess what movie they’re showing at the Carlyle College Performing Arts Center.”

“ No way! EEEEKKK!!!!”

FRIDAY SEPTEMBER 16

7:00 PM

WISH UPON A STAR

Sada says: According to IMDB, this movie is a Freaky Friday ripoff about a brainy girl whose wish to trade places with her popular idiot of a sister comes true, and in the process everyone learns a little something about themselves and each other. (I'm paraphrasing.)

“Wait,” Lyndz said. “Today’s the day I pledge.”

We all groaned.

“Here comes Casey now,” Rosie said.

Casey Wallace had wanted to be a TAS since the fourth grade, which, in my opinion, is not a very long time. Then again, Casey Wallace is not a very commited person.

Sada says: You have to have wanted it since you were FIVE, people! Five or NOTHING!

She sat down in her seat and Lyndz whipped out the safety scissors. She leaned slowly, towards Casey, and snipped off the whole ponytail at once. Casey didn’t even feel a thing.

Kylie says: OMFG. And that’s where I left off. Damn.

Sada says: I second that damn! I thought we were going to put frogs in Raquel's locker! I mean, WHERE IS THE BUCKET OF CHILI THAT I WAS PROMISED? This is very upsetting. Though, to be honest, as I read over the plan, I was like, "Hmmm... how are they getting away with this crap? Is it possible that all of the teachers at Tademy Academy are vision-impaired?"

But I regret that we'll never know whether guilt got the best of the girls, or if their lust for drill team glory and the lure of a guaranteed date to every dance were too strong. And did the TASes just take this abuse, or did they strike back and give the Deltas a bucketful of their own chili?

Um... does anyone know a fourth grade ghostwriter we could hand this off to?

NEXT TIME: The first in a series of hilariously terrible illustrations that I'm going to call Every Picture Tells a Story. Sixth grade will be coming soon, but in the meantime maybe I can post more than twice a month? I think I can, I think I can...

Welcome to Tademy Academy: Part 1

Guest author Kylie wrote this doozy when she was in fourth grade, just a few short years ago. No, really, you guys. Kylie just turned 14. Fourteen! When I was 14, the Internet didn't even EXIST.* But if it had, I certainly wouldn't have invited some 32-year-old woman to make fun of me on it. So, hats off to you, Kylie! And as usual, when I say "hats," I mean Claudia Kishi–style fedoras with, like, cavemen and Day-Glo dinosaurs hot-glued on them. But you knew that.

[*Okay, whatever. Technically the Internet existed. But in 1991, I had as much knowledge of its existence as the dudes from Color Me Badd had of mine. In other words, none.]

Welcome to Tademy Academy, a not-so-cautionary tale of hazing among the middle school elite, Kylie expertly divides her plagiarism efforts between two sources: the Australian tween TV show The Sleepover Club (based on the British book series of the same name) and the American book series The Clique. Kylie took the characters from The Sleepover Club (who are, surprisingly, NOT named Lauren, Kate, Stephanie, and Patti—hi, Britstralians, I'm onto you) and inserted them into the basic plot of The Clique: rich-bitch private school girls spend equal amounts of time harassing their classmates and obsessing over clothing. And YES, that means there are enough outfit descriptions here to instantly qualify Kylie as a Baby-Sitters Club ghostwriter. (Congratulations, Kylie! Just make sure you hit your jumpsuit and slouch socks quotas in every book.) Then she tossed everything together and set it at a boarding school, because it is a well-known fact that sending your characters to boarding school can do nothing but improve your story (see also camp).

Welcome to Tademy Academy

Sada says: I guess if your last name is Tademy, you really have no choice but to open an academy.

We awoke right on time, as per usual. Well, Fliss and I did. 4:00 am sharp.

“ Fliss, do you think purple glitter eye shadow is too bold for the first day of seventh grade,” I asked.

“ Yeah,” Fliss replied.

“ Hey, what about that pink eye shadow you bought at Sephora,” she asked, picking it out from my Maybelline makeup bag.

“Maybe,” I said. “Put it in the preliminary bag.”

“ Hey, Frankie,” Fliss asked. “ Should straighten my hair, curl it, or just use Bump Its?”

“ Straighten it. Unless you bought a new curling iron that doesn’t frizz up your hair,” I replied.

“ To curl or not to curl, that is the question.”

“OMG, you should put that cute Marni sundress in the bag,” I told Fliss.

“ With black Hue leggings, OMG!,” Fliss squealed.

Sada says: That sound you hear? Is Shakespeare rolling over in his grave. But wait, do people say OMG out loud? Really?? Youth of today, please confirm or deny.

“ Shut up,” screamed my adoptive twelve year old sister, Juno. That’s not her real name, she just changed it after she saw the movie. It’s really Rosita. She used to live in Texas, before her parents died, and she was sent to an orphanage, but she pretends she’s from England and speaks with a fake British accent and uses British slang. It seems incredibly stupid to me, especially since everyone knows she faking it, but she says it’s loads of fun.

Kylie says: What kind of girls get up at 4:00 am to get dressed and made up???? I’m with Juno. God, I really shouldn’t have seen that movie at age 10.

Sada says: The kind of girls who have a preliminary bag filled with Bump-Its and name-brand leggings, that's who. As Juno would say, blimey!

At least that can be forgiven because she dresses well and we are good friends because we are the same age. And we go to the same boarding school. Juno doesn’t believe in shoes. I know it’s so sad, but I don’t care much what those nasty TASs have to say about Jew.

Sada says: She doesn't believe in SHOES? Like, at all? I thought maybe Juno was a hippie but the "dressing well" part threw me off. (And I dressed like a hippie for many years, so I'm totally entitled to make that joke.) I'm guessing she just doesn't believe in shoes whose cost is equivalent with a month's rent. So far? I think Juno is brill.

The TASs are the Tademy Academy Socialites. It’s one of the TA social societies. It not even the most exclusive one, which is the one I’m going to be in. It’s called the Deltas. Let me explain social societies at Tademy Academy. You can’t join a soc until seventh grade for one thing. They help you meet boys from the boys’ school, Carlyle College, grades 7-12 and have radical parties.

Kiley says: Carlyle College? Was it ever a real college????

Sada says: Dude. I'm still trying to wrap my brain around the fact that Tademy has multiple groups whose main purpose is to exclude others. How many popular girls can one school have? So far the only thing I'm relating to here is the word "radical"—though not in terms of parties. Most of my 7th grade parties involved eating fistfuls of green M&Ms, listening to Bell Biv Devoe, and avoiding playing Spin the Bottle for fear I'd end up kissing someone gross (or, in early '90s parlance, a "total dog").

Even better, they guarantee you a spot on the drill squad. I’ve wanted to be on the drill squad since I was five years old. I think this could be the greatest thing that could ever happen to me. I mean, I could be partying with Ashlee, Maree, Courtnee, Britnee, Lacey, Tracey, Stacey, Macey, and the best of the best in the Deltas, Andy Tachman, Candy Campbell, Mandy Griffin, Sandy Flynn, and Randy Lewis. Yay! Plus you’re guaranteed a date to all school dances and functions.

Kylie says: What’s with the matchy-matchy names of the Deltas?

Sada says: Seriously. Rosie's going to need to drop the "Juno" if she wants to stand a chance here.

I quickly e- mailed Jayne Jonstone and Lottie Love, our camp friends, to give them the scoop.

Hey Jayne and Lottie,

What’s up? Guess whose going to be a Delta? Me, Francesca Frankie Frank Frankfurter Franks and Beans Chapman, assisted by Felicity Flissie Fliss Dillon, Kendra Ken Kenny Lindsay, Lindsay Lin Lyndz Sandburg, and Rosita Rose Rosie Fine, aka Juno Jew Fine. I can’t wait for seventh grade. It’s much easier to e-mail you now that you live in New England, and it’s already 1:00 pm there, so you’re surely awake. Over here it’s 9:00 am and Fliss and I just started the preliminary fashion round. Tademy Academy, here we come!

Sada says: It's already 9:00 a.m.? Time flies when you're filling up the preliminary bag! Sadly, NO, they don't attend boarding school in Alaska. They're in California; fourth graders in Australia just aren't super familiar with U.S. time zones.

Love,

Frankie Chapman & Fliss Dillon

Aka Mrs. Francesca Efron and Mrs. Felicity Sanborn.

Sada says: Oh, look, they're planning to marry the stars of High School Musical** much the way my friends and I were going to divvy up and wed the members of New Kids on the Block. That's cute.

[**Yeah, had no idea who that Sanborn character was. I'm not a pervy old lady, I'm just handy with the Google.]

P.S. I’m hosting SIGMA!!!!!!! - Fliss

P.P.S But I’m still hosting all the boy-girl parties, right?- Frankie

P.P.P.S I call shotgun in Ryne Sanborn’s convertible in twelve years. - Fliss

P.P.P.P.S You are insane about that guy.- Frankie

P.P.P.P.P.S I can’t help it.- Fliss

Sada says: Calling shotgun 12 years in advance? Hilarious. But probably ill-advised. I shudder to think of all the repossessed vehicles I might have ended up in.

P.P.P.P.P.P.S We’re signing off for real. - Frankie

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S- I’m Juno no more and I’m finally awake.- Rosie

Just then, the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” Rosie yelled, giggling at this ridiculous outfit Fliss joked about dressing me in.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE,” Rosie squealed.

“ Guys, check this out,” she yelled.

“ OMG,” Fliss said.

Dear Francesca Chapman, and Rosita Fine,

You two have been chosen to pledge for the Deltas. This will involve many risks. You will be asked to do something spiteful, something forward, something embarrassing, and something scandalous. What these things are will not be revealed in this letter. But the other pledges are to be revealed .

Felicity Dillon

Kendra Lindsay

Lindsay Sandburg

Kirsten Johnston

Sarah Jo Hansen

Holly Malloy

Mallory Lazarus

Emma-Jean Greene

Piper Tademy

Sarah-Charlotte Hopkins

Gillian Tompkins

Melissa Perkins

And remember, only five gals will make it.

Sada says: Dear Girls Whose Names Cannot Accommodate a Nickname Ending in a Y or double E: You are screwed. xoxo, Andy

Sealed with a Kiss,

(squeal) Andrea Tachman

ANDY TACHMAN WROTE US A LETTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I worship the ground she walks on!

My cell phone rang. “Hello?”

“Frankie, is that you?’’

“Kenny, what’s up?”

“I just got the best news….”

“You’re about to be a Delta, right?”

“And so are you!”

“I know, isn’t it amazing?”

“I can’t believe it!!!”

“Frankie,” Fliss shouted.

“I’ve got to go, bye.”

“So, Frankie, what shirt do you chose to go to the Top 5,” Rosie asked.

“Oh, my American Eagle polo shirt with my Aeropostale jeans.”

“OK.”

Kylie says: OK, there is way too much screaming here.

Sada says: BUT ANDY TACHMAN WROTE THEM A LETTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (squeal)

After that, the time flew by, and I was wearing that outfit with hi-top felt-pen attacked Keds and diamond studs from Claire’s.

Sada says: Diamonds at Claire's? Shyeah right! I can't be THAT old.

Fliss had borrowed my Hue leggings and had thrown on a white Delia’s dress with pink Converse All-Stars. Finally, Rosie was wearing a cute pink Abercrombie tank top and a Hollister denim skirt, with black Chuck Taylors. We walked into Tademy Academy with confidence, where we ran into a TAS, Tara Luna.

“Nice Keds,” the eighth-grader said. “Not.”

I tossed my blond hair in her face and walked right on by.

Sada says: Wikipedia has taught me that The Clique reviles Keds. Which totally makes sense seeing as white Keds were my exclusive sneaker of choice during middle school (preferably sans laces) and I think it's fair to say that I would never, ever, never have been tapped to join the Pretty Committee.

Whatevs. If they're good enough for Kelly Kapowski, they're good enough for me.

“Hey, Frankie,” Maree Pillsbury yelled out. “Rosie, Fliss.”

“Hey,” we all yelled and walked over to her.

“ Okay, you guys,” she said. “Tonight and tomorrow, you make your first set of pledges. Frankie, you’ll get Ella Gris by putting a donut on her seat in the cafeteria. Fliss, you’re to tip Tara Luna’s tray in the cafeteria in front of everyone. Kenny, you’re going to leave a fake love letter for Charlotte Reyes in her locker. Sign in with her crush, Dominick Fitch’s name. Make it very romantic. Spray it with Axe. It should tell her to meet him at the fountain in the courtyard. When no one shows up she’ll be humiliated and her locker will stink. Lyndz, you’ll cut off Casey Wallace’s ponytail. And finally, Rosie. You will put frogs in Raquel Weaver’s locker. Leave a banana peel on the ground and get a bucket of chili. The frogs will jump out at Raquel, and chase her down the hall. She’ll slip on the banana peel, slide down the hall, and trigger the bucket of chili to fall down on her. Got it? Because it’s the game plan.”

Maree always talks like that, because she’s on the world’s premiere girls’ football team.

Sada says: WOW. The Deltas might be lax on the Keds wearing, but DAMN, they are some evil bizznatches! Inflicting donut butt? Cutting off ponytails—and presumably NOT donating them to Locks of Love? And utilizing the Devil's own body spray (aka Axe)? Noooooooo! But the mind-blowingly elaborate Frogs in Raquel's Locker Chase Her Toward a Banana Peel That Triggers a Bucket of Chili to Fall on Her Head plan is my favorite. For obvious reasons.

“Got it,” we all said.

At dinner, it was proven that we didn’t get it. I bought a slice of pizza, a apple, and the Chocolate Covered Donut. “Are you guys sure I should do this?,” I asked.

“Totally,” Kenny said. “You still want to be in the Deltas, right?”

“Right,” I said, not so sure that I did.

“ The coast is clear,” Fliss said. “ Drop the bomb.”

“Okay,” I said hesitantly. Just then, I got a text.

From: Kenny [Sada says: Yes, it appears this text is from her friend who is standing next to her. Technology is awesome!]

To: Frankie

Frankie Chapman never hesitates when it comes 2 the Deltas. DTD=

Drop The Donut!!!!!!!!

And I did. I placed the donut right on Ella Gris’s seat. Two minuets later, a splat rang throughout the cafeteria.

Sada says: Can we all stop for a second and savor the poetry of "a splat rang throughout the cafeteria"? (Alternatively, you can take this time to ponder how a splat can ring.)

Ella sprang right up out of her chair. She looked at the back of her pants. Her seat was covered in chocolate frosting and Boston cream was dripping down her legs. She screamed and everyone laughed.

“ See ya, Boston,” an eighth grader yelled as she ran out of the cafeteria, humiliated.

Kylie says: God, Frankie seems like a real bitch.

Sada says: I am so glad I didn't go to Tademy Academy. In my middle school, we at least had the decency to insult people anonymously in a slam book! We never made them sit on breakfast pastries!

My phone began to vibrate.

From: Maree

To: Frankie

The Boston cream was a nice touch. That was a total accidental donut I threw in the basket. It must have been fate that you grabbed it, right?

Sada says: What basket? I thought Frankie bought the donut in the cafeteria. My God, just how much pull do these Deltas have??

From: Frankie

To: Courtnee

Total fate! Awesome, right?

Kylie says: I was right!

Sada says: There's nothing she wouldn't do for the drill squad. NOTHING!

NEXT TIME: Our (by which I mean Kylie's) story continues with with liberal spritzes of Axe body spray. In case you were wondering what that smell was.

Survey Says

Because we were the epitome of cool, my sister and I had lots—and I mean LOTS—of pen pals in our teen and tweenage years. Writing letters was fun, but sometimes we liked to take it to the next level by creating insightful surveys on our word processor (sample query: "Did Paula Abdul get a boob job or is it trick photography?"). We would distribute lists of these pressing questions to our pen pals near and far, and also to our friends and loved ones. Because we had to get to the bottom of this Paula Abdul boob thing ASAP.

One survey recipient was our younger brother, Will, who was 10 years old when my sister made him fill this out (my surveys had way more 90210-related questions). This, you guys, THIS is what was going on in the minds of fifth grade boys while we were writing them heart-on-our-sleeve love letters imploring them to like us more than Jessica. I offer the following with very little commentary because, seriously, this business was snarky enough already.

questions

name: Will P.

age: 10

date: June 23, 1994

What is the best book you've ever read? Why?

Babysitters Club 9#. Because it's cool.

I don't like the sarcasm I'm detecting in this answer.

[Image courtesy of Are You There Youth? It's Me, Nikki
because my computer thinks there's something sketchy going down at Dibbly Fresh.]

What is your favorite movie? Why?

Bugsy Malone. Because they have a marshmallow fight.

What is your favorite song and album and group?

New Kids on the Block. Because their hip.

Remember, this was 1994, not 1989. New Kids on the Block were not even remotely hip anymore. Good-bye, rattails and topless hats. Hello, flannel!

Who is your favorite actor?

Steve Urkel

Working toward that Oscar nod!

actress?

Madonna

Are there any famous people you despise? Who and why?

No one

What qualities in a person really make you sick?

When they drool, chug a pop and throw-up, and eat.

Who are some of the people you look up to, and why?

Shaq

Would you rather be deaf or blind? Why?

Blind. Donno?

What are some things you appreciate about the opposite sex?

I don't have to have the babies.

Do you believe in love at first sight?

NO. Because I'm blind.

What is the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for you?

My mom made me.

Do you think you'll ever find anyone you'll want to spend the rest of your life with?

NO Yes

Are you going to raise your children different than your parents have raised you? In what ways?

NO

If you could change anything about yourself, physically, mentally or emotionally, what would it be?

I want to be a Superman!

What do you think people's first impressions of you are?

I'm weird

What is something you usually don't tell people about yourself?

No

What do you want to be when you grow up?

A man and a dog.

Dare to dream!

What are your plans for the future?

To meet a woman and a loving dog that is immortal and will massage.

??? I don't know what that means, and I'm pretty sure I don't want to find out.

What was the best year of your life? Why?

Kindergarden because Mrs. Collins was sexy

Sexy!

That's kindergarten teacher Mrs. Collins with my brother's future girlfriend. Also, yes, our school mascot was a sweater-wearing falcon with a backpack. Don't even try to front.

What is your most prized possession?

My tiger.

Will had a pet rabbit named Tiger, so I think this is—dare I say?—not a joke.

If your house was burning down and you could save two things, what would they be?

Animals and family

If you were going to be sent off to a deserted island for a year, what two people would you bring? Why?

Madonna and Mrs. Collins

Ahh, the Mrs. Collins joke. It never gets old!

Who do you get along with best in your whole family?

My mom

What is something you've always wanted to do, but never have?

Been a billionaire

What is the biggest problem facing the world?

death.

thank you. iI hope you enjoyed it.

You suck!

Yeah. He ended the survey by correcting our capitalization and then insulting us. (Don't worry, I'm going to get him back by posting pictures of him dressed up like a girl. You can look forward to that in a future post.)

However, I want you to know that it was not ALL smartassery with young Will. He had his first "girlfriend," named Morgan, around this time. When we went on vacation that summer, he made the awesome mistake of leaving his journal lying around where we could see it—awesome because we saw that he had written this: "All I can think about is Morgan, Morgan, Morgan." So I guess preteen girls didn't have the market on melodrama cornered after all. (Sadly, the journal made no mention of immortal massage dogs.)

This was the same vacation in which Will spent the entire two-day car ride home hocking loogies into a cup because he was convinced that spitting would prevent him from having to pee. I think we were all too grossed out to explain the details of his faulty logic.

NEXT TIME: Guest author Kylie teaches us that if you want to be popular at Tademy Academy, you have to prepared to dump a little chili on someone else's head. And no, that's not a metaphor.