[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/KMA2cKy.png[/img]
[sub][color=slategray]The Detention Room[/color][/sub][/center][hr][indent][indent][b]“Remember! Attention, in detention.”[/b]

Their ‘handler’ as Tony had come to refer to him always said the same thing. He said it everytime, every single time. And Tony didn’t even get it! What did it even mean? It was such a drag, being in this building, and in this room. And on a Saturday, no less! He had better things to do, surely they all did. But no, he was trapped in here until the end of the school year, just like the other five. Tony didn’t [i]know[/i] anyone here, sure he knew of them, but he didn’t necessarily know their names.

He had just… assigned names to them. There was ‘Lives Under Her Own Dress Code,’ ‘Probably a Former Girl Scout,’ ‘Might Be Able to Kill Me,’ and ‘Has a Nice Car Guy.’ Strangely, if you asked Tony anyway — and maybe it was sexist — he and Has a Nice Car Guy were… the only guys there. Probably a Former Girl Scout belonged here the least, she seemed out of place — she didn’t seem like she had a single bone in her body that deserved to be detained.

Has a Nice Car Guy seemed like he belonged here the most — Tony figured it was the jacket he wore. Might Be Able to Kill Me and Lives Under Her Own Dress Code seemed at home, if nothing else, though Tony reckoned Might Be Able to Kill Me only had one setting, and that was quiet and not talking to anyone ever no matter what. Tony imagined if she ever did speak, her only words would be ‘lawyer’ and whatever ‘lawyer’ was in… whichever sect of Asia she was from.

[b]“Attention in detention.”[/b]

The Handler said it again as he walked toward the stairs, and without missing a beat, he abandoned the entire detained squad. Tony wondered if he knew what they did down here after he left. Following the Handler with his eyes, Tony came to a sad realization… The Handler didn’t care. Did anyone? Probably not. Tony wasn’t sure [i]he [/i]even cared what he did down here.

What was important was… their time together was reaching its apex, the midpoint. Tony thought of the detention kids as a ‘group,’ even if they never said more than three words to each other, but… still, it was the closest thing he had to [i]friends.[/i] Tony had a plan to celebrate, all he had to do was… ask. Unfortunately for him, that wasn’t going to be easy. It was never easy, not to speak to [i]people[/i]. What was he, some kind of social butterfly? No, no, Tony was more of a social… moth. He just didn’t know what he was doing, and suddenly he flew into a bug zapper and bing bang boom he was dead.

This sucked.

Tony stood up from his desk amongst the pit of kids stuck in detention, and cleared his throat. [b][color=#ffce0a]“Hey, guys. Thank you for… gathering here. It’s been nice meeting you and all, so to, you know celebrate our uhm...—” [/color][/b]Oh man, this was painful, he was worse than he’d thought. He’d just get to the point. [b][color=#ffce0a]“I’m going to Angel Grove mine tonight, at six thirty, to blow some stuff up. You guys wanna come?” [/color][/b]There. Who wouldn’t want to blow stuff up?[/indent][/indent]