[COLOR=GRAY][INDENT][INDENT][i][table][row][/row][row][cell] [color=white]"Principal's office. One for pickup."[/color] The Butler uttered with a monotony that suggested it was far from the first time he'd uttered those words. The receptionist pointed up a staircase without raising her head from her work. The Butler ascended the staircase and rounded the corner towards the office of the Headmaster. [color=white]"Jesus... Fucking... Christ..."[/color] He uttered, looking at Banjo sitting in a chair just outside the door. [img]https://64.media.tumblr.com/659d90a6794297d24b2131dc6d492e15/tumblr_ohcmcnYm9G1qzrl3do4_r2_400.gifv[/img] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Alright, now before you crack the shits, remember what I always say..."[/color] The Butler facepalmed and pinched the bridge of his nose to ease the rising tension. Banjo was sitting in his chair in a Drama club issue loin cloth, with no shirt, a Christmas twig-wreath perched on his head, and streaks of dried beetroot juice down his face, side and wrists. [color=darkgoldenrod]"...Let He who is without sin cast the first stone."[/color] The librarian passed the pair with a baffled look on her face. Banjo noticed her and tipped his wreath. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Oh... Milady."[/color] [color=2c2c2c] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/color] The Butler drove in silence, until the backed up questions were just too much. [color=white]"H--Hoooow? Whyyyy? I don't-- I don't understand."[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Yes, I've been told I work in mysterious ways..."[/color] [color=white]"Knock it off... and get that shit off your head!"[/color] The Butler snatched the twig-wreath and flung it out the driver's side window as they screeched around a hard left corner. [color=darkgoldenrod]"So where we going now?"[/color] [color=white]"Perth. I need time to find another bloody school for you, now... Expelled! Are you bloody jokin' me?!"[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Well, I think we were about due for me to be the reason I got pulled out of a school..."[/color] The Butler glared at him. [color=white]"Oh no! You're not gettin' any bloody sympathy out of me today! Nice bloody try, matey! They were gonna have you up on charges of bloody sacrilege!"[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"They can't."[/color] Banjo replied quietly. [color=white]"Well, I hate to inform you, but yes they bloody can..! You--"[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Criminal Law Consolidation Act of '35, section 137. Sacrilege requires breakage. Either break and enter, break through exit or damage or destruction of property. The ledge I set myself up to stand on? I'd rigged it to support it's own weight from the whole structure, I used elastic bands rather than nails. The cross itself wasn't damaged in any way. I looked it up beforehand."[/color] [color=white]"Well how about if you're planning on doing a prank which requires you to do your own legal research on the definition of 'Sacrilege' you try and come up with another bloody idea? Why the Hell can't you just pull some kind of normal bloody prank, put a thumbtack on your teacher's seat, set off a bloody stink bomb or something? The Hell's the matter with you? Do we need to get your head read or something?"[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Fuck that. Bunch of hypocrites. You know Priests at that school had been under heat for a dozen sexual offences over the past five years right? They just shuffle 'em on and cycle in a new pervert."[/color] [color=white]"So your solution was to strap yourself to the cross on top of the school chapel decked out like [b]THAT[/b] overlooking the School Assembly. You're lucky they didn't leave you up there for the whole assembly!"[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"They weren't going to do that..."[/color] [color=white]"Only because you'd tapped into the school's speakers and were wired for sound!"[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Exactly. I had a plan. Don't make out like I didn't."[/color] The Butler sat in quiet contemplation of everything that was said as they motored through the suburban sprawl. Perth was thousands of kilometres away. They were in for a long drive, whilst he planned their next moves. [color=white]"Alright. But I don't buy that as a reason for a second. You just love the bloody attention."[/color] He thought for a few seconds. [color=white]"That or you really are a headcase..."[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"I'm a fisher of men."[/color] Smirked Banjo with a shrug. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Men and laughs..."[/color] [/cell] [cell][color=2c2c2c]- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -[/color] [right]Banjo sat with his legs crossed upon a desk, rocked back with a microphone in his hand. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Knox Grammar, it's 9:25 and you are listening to 'Banjo in the morning', my fellow Zoo Crew Drive-time team member Principal Neely couldn't make it in this morning, and we're sending him out well wishes and hope that he feels better... wherever he is..."[/color] Behind him, shouting through a locked door an angry bespectacled man is yelling and gesturing at the student filling the school's airwaves. [color=white][sup]"Banjo! BANJO! I mean it, open this door right now!"[/sup][/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"The Tuck Shop Thunders will be giving out icy cold cans of Coke, and for those degenerates amongst you, the coked out will be getting cans of ice..."[/color] [color=white][sup]"Banjo! Banjo, this isn't funny![/sup][/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"The tuck shop would also like to remind you that this week's special, the beef cheese and bacon pie, will be comprised of the following detention students... Brian Haynes, Malcolm Tucker, Matthew Richardson, and because they're having a run on Matthews at the moment, Matthew Palmer and Matthew Nicholls as well. They'll also be using what little remains from last week's special, the removed tissue from Mr Stevens appendectomy, so get in quick there..."[/color] [color=white][sup]"Banjo! BANJO! Look, get him out of there... have we got the spare keys yet?"[/sup][/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"...Aaaand Congratulations to the father of the child just delivered in sickbay, 11Cs own David Blake. It's a boy. Mazel. However, since the mother is his English teacher, Ms Krenshaw, any and all information regarding the conception can be handed in to Senior Sargent Prentice at Wahroonga Police Station... and if any camera footage remains, I'm sure that the Senior Video Committee would still be interested, care of their Head Caleb Armitage, they gather once a week on, I believe it's Thursdays, at the AV Club..? Thursdays? Yes, that sounds about right. But yes, further queries to Caleb, he'll help you out. Probably with renumeration as well if the angles are particularly saucy..."[/color] [color=white][sup]"BANJO!"[/sup][/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"We'll also be continuing with the "Secret Sound" promotion, but a reminder, the last five callers have guessed 'Principal Neely attempting to get back into the station', just a reminder that answer was [b]WRONG[/b] just so we don't have any more callers wasting their guess. The prize being a..."[/color] Banjo dangled a set of keys in front of his face. [color=darkgoldenrod]"...4 Series BMW. And if you're thinking 'Wow, Hey Banjo, doesn't Principal Neely have a fancy new BMW that he's been kicking around.' The answer is 'Yes, but it's a slightly different shade of blue.' So I guess he can at least attest to the quality. Perhaps tomorrow when he's feeling better he could even provide a testimonial..."[/color] [color=white][sup]"Banjo! Stop that! This is not funny, gosh darn it!"[/sup][/color] Banjo turned in his seat and raised his eyebrow at the 'Gosh darnit', then shrugged and continued. [color=white][sup]"Oh, did you see that! He looked right at me! Yes! There! The keys! You've got them! Give them here!"[/sup][/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Anyway, we'll be right back after following up on our music guarantee, 'Better Music and More of It', here's The Avalanches with [url=https://youtu.be/qLrnkK2YEcE]'Frontier Psychiatrist'[/url]...[/color][color=white][b]"BANJO!"[/b][/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]...Hoik--"[/color] [/right] [color=2c2c2c] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/color] [right][color=white]"Alright, that one I'll pay... That one was funny."[/color] The Butler chuckled as he drove the car onwards. Banjo chuckled in the passenger seat. [color=white]"You're kidding me. He really [b]LEFT YOU[/b], of all people, in the room alone, with his own keys and the door shut, to go to the bathroom..? It's like these bloody dickheads don't even read up on you... Are they just cashing tuition and coasting?"[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Seems that way."[/color] [color=white]"Need their bloody heads read..."[/color] He laughed warmly, then stopped. Looked across at banjo. Banjo could feel him looking at him. He knew what this was. There was a Time when, he'd have immediately put it straight on Banjo. "You're mental...", "What kind of nutcase...". That's what this was. The Butler was realising he'd started trying to justify it. And now was the second guessing. The hesitation. Perhaps it wasn't the teachers who were batshit nuts. Even with his record. Banjo sighed. And looked out the window as they sped on to the next location. [/right][/cell][/row][/table] [/i] [/INDENT][/INDENT][hr][CENTER][img]https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/1070792705547980842/1079957264212971520/image.png[/img][/CENTER][indent][sub][COLOR=SILVER][B]Location:[/B][/COLOR] [I]Pacific Royal Collegiate & University - Dundas Islands, Pacific Ocean[/I][/sub][sup][right][COLOR=SILVER][b]The Homecoming Trials: # 1.63[/b][/COLOR] [I]'Most People I Know (Think That I'm Crazy)'[/I][/right][/sup][/indent][sub][hr][/sub][INDENT][sub][color=SILVER][B]Interaction(s):[/B][/COLOR] Rory - [@webboysurf], Calliope - [@PatientBean], Trace - [@psych0pomp], Luce - [@Roman][/sub][SUP][RIGHT][COLOR=SILVER][b]Previously:[/b][/COLOR] [I]Team Bonding - Conflict Resolutions: "Boot meet arse, Arse... Boot." [/I][/right][/SUP] [INDENT] [color=fff200]”Hey, Bro!”[/color] Banjo grunted out a sigh. "Not now. Not fucking now." He'd placed the voice. It was one of the two football friends. He'd earmarked to speak with them later in the night, since he'd pegged them as probably two of the easier people to find a way of getting on with them. Something to be said for 'If it ain't broke, don't fix it'. But now problems with other people were spreading like an infection. Dragging more into the middle of his mess. If he could he'd have spoken with this one later. But the repeating voice told him there wouldn't be much choice in the matter. [color=fff200]”Look man, we need to be trying to get along here. If you need to walk things off, walk it off… but you can’t be talking to people that way, Andy. We’re a team, like it or not… so let’s just try to get along.”[/color] Banjo opened his mouth to respond and... [color=F796A9]"With all due respect, you know very little about the situation so maybe just focus on your football throwing and let the grown-ups have a discourse,"[/color] Calliope said to Rory. [color=F796A9]"As for you,"[/color] she addressed Iñigo, [color=F796A9]"I came over here offering help and you didn't even acknowledge me, let alone how rude you treated Banjo, who also only offered help. A simple 'no we have it' would have sufficed, but as you clearly didn't even know about the lever I'll wait for a 'thank you Banjo' instead. We're supposed to be a team and bonding and stuff and I'll be the first to admit I cringed at that aspect, but at least I am trying. Banjo was trying too, and you essentially spat in his face."[/color] Calliope took a beat to calm down before she went on, acknowledging Haleigh now, [color=F796A9]"Sorry, Haleigh. I agree that this should not be how things are handled. God, can you even imagine us at this point working as a team if this is how we act with each other on day 1? Sorry, Rory, about my grown-up comment. You meant well."[/color] Unbelieveable. Beat-for-beat it was perfect. [b]SHE[/b] was perfect. Exactly what he would have said... albeit with a few less four-letter word choices. He'd never felt this... understood. He didn't know it was possible for someone to "get" him so completely in only a few short hours. Hell, he wouldn't have dared believe it possible after years. A few short hours. This was insane. How he felt was insane. No part of this made sense with how the world usually worked. She walked over to Banjo, putting her hand on his in an attempt to get him to calm down. [color=F796A9]"You were right to suggest talking to the others. This was a misstep. That's all."[/color] Maybe he hadn't fucked it all up. How he hadn't fucked it all up was baffling, all the missteps, the explosive responses. He wasn't calm right now, but it wasn't from anger. He ran his fingertips across her hand, caressing it, and gave a warm smile. He'd settle for that now. After all, people were staring. Wait-- people were staring? [COLOR=#D90037]“Calliope, pet, you have got to tell me how managed to take Deliverance’s balls and make some snazzy jewelry out of them. I mean that’s what had to have happened here. Never seen a dog bark so hard only to back down the moment a pretty face interrupts. He had to have been snipped.”[/COLOR] They made a pair of scissors with their fingers and pantomimed the action. [COLOR=#D90037]“And here my money was on Rory beatin’ his ass. I mean, it’s the difference between a show dog and a mutt you find in the gutter—fleas and all. For some blokes with powers and machismo, you sure as hell love to be cucked. Bet you fuck as fast as you fight—which is not at all.”[/COLOR] Trace laughed. He felt naked and exposed, like he'd just been stung. He'd forgotten his banter back-and-forth with Trace because he'd been entirely absorbed in... whatever the Hell he was just feeling right then. He tried to run his mind back through the list of jokes he'd made himself to stick it to Trace but nothing was coming to mind, because Trace had hit him with such a precision blow, he needed to gather. His smirk was a mask and he hid behind it, people assumed something was coming when they'd see it and it bought some time. Now what was that one about-- ah yeah... [color=darkgoldenrod]"Well, well... Trace. I thought someone had to play a haunted video cassette for you to show up, but here you are. I guess it was this weather that brought you out... only had to re-apply the SPF-100 twice with this much cloud cover, eh?"[/color] Weak. It was a start... but weak. Ugh. He didn't even want to be doing this. It was just. Going through the motions. He hoped Calliope hadn't sensed his reaction to the "Not at All" part. How the fuck was he going to broach that issue with her now? How would she take that? "Yeah, you know what the cryptkeeper said before about not fucking... well, yeah it turns out I am a virgin. Yeah, it turns out most private boarding schools are single sex, occasionally those types of schools will bus girls in for formal events, dance classes and that kind of thing, but my less than sterling behavioural record meant they were loathe to let me off the leash. Guess they were worried I'd get poor sweet Mary Sue from the local Catholic girls school knocked up before graduation. So hey, here I am... a lameass seventeen year old virgin who... why the fuck are you thinking this..? Fuck you, Trace! Fuck [b]ME[/b] over like this?!?! Let 'em fucking have it!" [color=darkgoldenrod]"You've kind of put me in a fucking spot, with this banter, haven't ya? Because there's no fucking way for me to respond without punching down and being the arsehole. And every joke I could fucking hit would take a backseat to the one that God, the fates, Provenance, call-it-what-you-fucking-will played on you already, doesn't it? Because ya jus--"[/color] He realised the laughter in his voice was gone. He wasn't poking back and forth anymore. He was swinging to hurt. Because he was hurt. And if he knew it, he was pretty damn sure Trace had just figured it out as well, even if the collection of Seppos and Canucks standing in attendance hadn't caught on because banter ain't their game. Standing in attendance? Wait, what was the other thing Trace said? Before that... Rory? The football bloke. These people are standing and staring cos they all thought you were going to throw down with that guy because, what, he doesn't want people shittalking? What kind of fucking crazy animal mentalcase do they think you are? The laughter came back into his voice. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Because ya just-- You'll have to forgive Trace here. Y'see Trace suffers from a syndrome my people call... 'Bein' a whingin' Pommy bastard.'"[/color] It was weak, he didn't give a shit. He needed to kill this bullshit and get the fuck out. Go get a 'win' somewhere. He looked through the crowd. Sparky McGee standing with some adult... maybe a teacher? Fuck no. That'd be more of the same. Big Saffa sheila? Nope. Trace probably poisoned that well. The football friends? Calliope didn't seem to care for them too much. The broad with the ring. On her phone. Nah. Too standoffish. The one who answered his question about who that pill Tad was, when Sparky McGee was up his own arse? That'll work. She looked pretty jittery. And he recognised abandonment. [color=darkgoldenrod]"You're right. A misstep. Just gotta try again with the right person. And I reckon there's someone who'd welcome the effort."[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Don't know what the Hell that was just now with Trace,[/color] He tried to cover his tracks in a half-arsed way after fleeing the scene in a pissweak fashion. [color=darkgoldenrod]"But it looks like someone over there's been ditched. You know her name?"[/color] He asked Calliope. He made his way over to the nervous blonde girl. Daring to hope that Calliope might still follow. What a fucking shambles this has been. Crazy. 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