Kids | Rodrick Heffley
Spotify Playlist Link
Rodrick Heffley becomes obsessed when he finally meets his thirty-five year old band mate, Bill Walter’s, younger sister.
Warnings: Mature themes/language. Drug use. Sexual content. Violence.
“Heartbeat”
“The Angel From My Nightmare”
There was a war going on in Rodrick Heffley’s head. An even bigger one than usual. He nearly drank maple syrup at breakfast that Friday morning.
“Are you okay, Rodrick?” Greg asked him. “You seem even more stupid than usual. Which is saying something.”
“Shut up, you little butt muncher!” he snapped, throwing a grape at his younger brother.
“Rodrick, sweetie, be nice,” Susan Heffley frowned as she sat down for breakfast with the boys, feeding Manny. “But Greg’s right, you seem irritable. Is there something on your mind?”
“No, Mom,” he huffed impatiently.
“Is it that girl you were seeing? Bill’s sister?” his mother assumed.
“No, Mom! It’s nothing,” Rodrick insisted.
The truth was, he hadn’t spoken to, or even looked in the same direction of, Sara for weeks.
“She didn’t try to go too fast with you, did she?” Susan asked in a panic she had created herself.
“Mom!” Rodrick exclaimed, appalled.
“Susan…”
Frank wasn’t of much help. And neither was Greg, who just laughed.
“You know, I knew girls like her in high school. Developed too early, started making mistakes with boys…” the woman trailed off, adjusting her glasses as she shuddered at the thought.
“Ugh, why is everyone being so weird?!” Rodrick groaned, earning looks from everyone at the table.
He got up, completely abandoning the food despite his hunger.
“I’m out of here!” he announced dramatically as his father just widened his eyes, returning to that morning’s paper.
Rodrick angrily grabbed his backpack, which was practically empty, running out to the van as he sped off to school, so distracted he nearly hit a parked car on the way out of their neighborhood.
“Fuck!” Rodrick yelled within the safety of his van as he arrived at the high school. “I’m starving,” he realized.
Meanwhile, Sara wasn’t having a great start to her day, either.
“Sara Walter.”
Sara reluctantly stood up in her home room class, walking up to her ancient history teacher’s desk as she waited for him to hand her her test back.
“Hmm. Sara Walter… You wouldn’t happen to be related to a student I had a while back, would you?” Mr. Emerson thought aloud. “Bill Walter?”
“Yes. I am,” she crossed her arms, not in the mood for conversation, let alone polite conversation.
“Huh. I can certainly see the resemblance,” the man chuckled at his own joke, gesturing to her dark makeup and shaggy blonde hair through laughter. “Bill Walter. Wow. What a throwback… Did he ever mention me?”
“Yes,” she responded.
“Oh really? What did he have to say?” the man asked her with a burning curiosity.
“That you’re a Confederate sympathizer, and you smell like an onion farted,” Sara recalled perfectly. “May I have my text back, please?”
She watched as his face fell.
“Yes, I suppose, here it is,” Mr. Emerson said in embarrassment.
She grabbed the test, slumping back down in her seat as she sighed at the C-. Not her finest work, but certainly not her worst, either.
“Girl, are you okay?” Lauren Do asked quietly. “You seem like you hate this class more than usual.”
“I’m fine,” she sighed. “I finally have a Friday off, but my mom wants me to take Connor to a birthday party, at the roller rink.”
“Oh. I’ll come with you,” the girl volunteered. “We can stand off to the side and people-watch.”
“Thanks,” Sara nodded appreciatively, “That sounds like about all I can handle. Not like I have too many plans as of late, anyway.”
“Whatever happened to you and Rodrick?” Lauren asked her. “You two looked so hot together.”
“Rodrick’s… nothing,” Sara concluded coldly.
“Ew, what a dumbass,” her best friend said in disgust.
“Tell him, not me.”
Later that day, at lunch, Sara and Lauren sat out in the courtyard together, as Sara decided to spend her time drawing her friend as a pinup. It was entertaining, and it took her mind off the gaping void.
Sara sat on the cement with her knees up to her chest, drawing frustratedly as she occasionally looked around her at the world, hating it every time. She eventually looked up, facing the exit out of the school, as three all-too-familiar guys came walking out. She looked down quickly, returning to her drawing as she spotted Rodrick. Luckily, they hadn’t made eye contact.
But, unfortunately, it seemed Lauren and Sara were so far off to the side, they hadn’t noticed either of them as they walked past, having a loud conversation amongst themselves.
“You should ask Vicky to the prom,” Ben laughed as he teased Chris.
“No way. I’m not tying myself down to anyone. Especially not Vicky,” Chris Merkle scoffed.
Ben nodded approvingly. “Girlfriends are overrated as fuck, dude. Why have one girl sometimes, when you can have all the girls, all the time?”
“Hell yeah, man,” Rodrick ad-libbed emptily.
Chris just shook his head at him, amused by his stupidity. Sara did the same thing, but for another reason. She felt she couldn’t have expected anything else; why would Rodrick Heffley, of all people, have the balls to be the contrarian in a group of teenage boys convinced that monogamy was the stupidest human invention?
*****
Later that day, Rodrick and the other boys picked up their band mate to hang out at the dirty part of the park, smoking different things together where no one else liked to go.
“Yo, Rod,” Bill said, coughing on the joint he was sharing with Chris.
Rodrick turned to look at him, enjoying a cigarette by himself.
“Wanna go to the store?” he asked. “I want some chips.”
“Yeah,” Rodrick nodded, as both of them stood.
“Get me an Arizona!” Ben called.
“Me too!” Chris said as he took the joint. “And barbecue chips!”
Rodrick and Bill walked off towards the grocery store down the street.
“Want some?” Rodrick asked, offering him the cigarette.
“Yeah. Thanks,” Bill nodded, taking a quick drag before handing it back. “Yo. What’s going on with you and my sister?” he asked suddenly.
Rodrick winced at the topic, looking at him awkwardly. “Nothing.”
“Nah, not nothing,” Bill insisted, wheezing through his cotton mouth, “You and Sara haven’t talked in like forever. Both of you avoid each other when she takes me home from practice, and you change the topic when I bring her up.”
He just stared at his older band mate, not used to hearing him think so coherently.
“Dude, I’m not an idiot,” Bill said as Rodrick tried not to laugh at the irony. “I notice things.”
But he still didn’t say anything. He couldn’t think of anything.
“Look, not to be that guy,” he said readily, “But I thought you and my sister were crazy about each other. The chemistry was, like, unreal. Did the date go bad? Did one of you do something?”
“No, no,” Rodrick said automatically, feeling bad, “Nothing like that…”
“Then, what happened?” Bill questioned. “Why won’t you talk to Sara? I thought you liked her.”
“I do,” Rodrick promised, seeing the way this genuinely bothered Bill, “I do like her.”
“Then why the cold shoulder?” Bill asked. “Is it you, is it her, is it both of you…? I can’t even tell.”
“It—It’s me,” Rodrick Heffley sighed.
“Why?” Bill asked him.
“I don’t know, I just… Me? A girlfriend?” Rodrick thought, “It just doesn’t sound right.”
“Why not, man? You’re a catch!” his friend encouraged him.
“No, it’s not that…”
“Then what is it?” Bill asked.
He sighed, trying to explain. “I don’t know, man. It’s just… What if it doesn’t work out? What if I’m just better off being single, playing the field?” he wondered.
“Oh, because you got so many better options?” Bill pointed out.
Rodrick just frowned, not finding the response helpful.
“Okay, sorry, but you kinda deserved that one, man! You’re an idiot if you think a girl like Sara’s not something you should take the chance on!” he cried. “I mean, I know I’m her brother and all, but she’s a good person! You don’t meet girls like her all the time.”
“But weren’t you the one who told me being in a band gets you girls whether you’re on or offstage?” Rodrick questioned, not understanding his logic.
Bill just sighed guiltily, realizing his mistake.
“Alright. Yes. I did say that… But there’s more to life than sex, and fame. As awesome as they feel, at least when you’re young.”
“Yeah! They do feel awesome,” Rodrick scoffed, “They feel… really good! And I don’t know if I’m old enough to give them up, you know?!”
“You know you still get sex when you have a girlfriend, right?” Bill asked. “I mean. If you’re doing it right.”
“That’s not what I mean!” Rodrick exclaimed. “I just mean… I don’t know if I should’ve told her I want a relationship! What i’d I don’t wanna give up random sex just yet, you know? Like, I’m Rodrick! I’m young, and I’m crazy, and I’m in my prime!”
“You’re in high school, and let’s face it, you’re kind of a fucking loser,” Bill snapped.
Rodrick just gave him a wounded look, frustrated with the way the conversation was going.
“Okay, that was mean, I’m sorry. I apologize,” Bill conceded.
He tried to find a middle ground, but nothing seemed to be working so far.
“Alright, look, here’s the deal, man. You know I’ve been with Becky a while, and you know things weren’t always so good,” he reminded him. “Things were real rocky in the beginning.”
“What happened?��� the younger guy asked.
“Me happened. When Becky and I first started going out, I was kinda like you. I wasn’t convinced I should give up ‘playing the field’,” Bill admitted. “I was back and forth, hot and cold… And I played around. I’m not proud of it, but that’s what happened. It really fucked things up. I didn’t think she’d still wanna be with me.”
Rodrick nodded sympathetically, taking in everything his band mate had to say.
“So, why’d you stay together?” he wondered.
“Well… When she found out, I realized I fucked up. I felt like shit. I knew I fucked over a good girl, and I wished so bad I could go back, and fix it. But I couldn’t,” he confessed, seeming distraught still. “I broke her heart, and it killed me inside.”
“I, uh…” Rodrick thought for a moment, finding the affinity he shared for him profound. “I think I know what you mean.”
“Look, I don’t wanna be a Debbie Downer,” Bill said awkwardly, “But… I know you’re young, and you’re cool, and you think taking a chance on somebody is a huge risk… But sometimes, so is passing up the chance,” he concluded.
“So you’re saying… I should take the chance with Sara?” Rodrick asked.
“No, man! Are you even listening?!” Bill sighed, as he just stood there looking lost. “No. I’m saying… you should think about Sara, and how you really feel about her. And, if it’s good enough for you to take the chance, then you should take the chance,” he finished.
“Oh. That’s even better,” Rodrick remarked. “Fuck. You’re a genius.”
“I have my moments,” Bill shrugged.
“Fuck, I gotta win her back!” Rodrick realized, starting to panic. “What should I do?!”
“What are you good at?” Bill asked him.
“Uh, we’re in a band?!” he cried.
“Oh. Right. There you go,” Bill nodded quickly.
“What’s a good way to apologize?” Rodrick thought out loud. “Where’s Sara gonna be tonight? Does she have work?”
“No, she’s taking our brother to the roller rink.”
“The roller rink! Perfect!” Rodrick snapped, pointing a finger at his band mate. “I got it!”
Once they returned with snacks, Rodrick determined it was a good time to pitch his idea to the others. They were more than excited, so the plan was set in stone. The boys took the next few hours before Sara would be arriving at the roller rink to prepare.
When they finished practicing one of their covers and loaded everything into the van, all Rodrick could think about on the drive was Sara, and the way he’d stupidly ignored her for the past week.
“What the fuck was I thinking?!” Rodrick yelled as he frantically ran a red light. “I’ll never get another girl like Sara! I can barely get a girl like Sara now!”
“I don’t know, man,” Chris murmured nervously, “But can you watch the road?! Like, at least a little?!”
Rodrick slowly breathed in as he raced them to the roller rink, praying the public display would be enough.
-
10 Things I Hate About You
38 notes
·
View notes
From Mahsa Amini to Tyre Nichols
(Spontaneous Combustion Opposed to Preplanned Demolition)
Stephen Jay Morris
1/28/2023
©Scientific Morality
What burns my asshole is that the Conservatives might all be vindicated for the January 6, 2020 coup d’etat. “How?” you ask. When the rocks start flying and the buildings start burning, the Right-wing media will show footage of the riots. Maybe, they’ll even throw in some stock footage of the Chicago riots of 1968. The stupid ass viewers won’t know the difference! At that point, the January 6th rioters will look like patriots.
If protesters practice refractory Zen and employ passive resistance, or even civil disobedience, the general public just might sympathize with them. However, Right-wing provocateurs, dressed up like Antifa in black ski masks, will simultaneously infiltrate the marches. They’ll do their vandal shit and encourage violence against the cops. This actually happened during the George Floyd rebellion some time back.
So, what was the big alibi for January 6th? That it was infiltrated by Antifa and it was their fault! Thank Buddha, this was a laughable fantasy! After the public rejected this idiotic premise, they blamed FBI agents. Can this Right-wing tactic work again? Hell, yeah, it could!
The Islamic State of Iran is as big as the State of Idaho. When Mahsa Amini got murdered by Iran's morality police, that entire country erupted into demonstrations. It was like Paris in 1968, when the students united with the workers in a general strike. And, alas, like with all outbursts of public outrage, nothing was resolved. The only way democracy can replace dictatorships is through revolution. Definitely not the Neo-Liberals’ delusion of America invading Iran, handing them a democratic country, and then drilling for oil.
A handful of Confederate soldiers were black slaves. This can be verified historically. There were also black slave hunters who, when a slave escaped, they’d hunt them down and capture them. They’d return them to the plantation, where the White masters would have the black slave hunter whip the black escapee until he bled to death.
What does this have to do with Tyre Nichols? Everything! When White cops kill a Black man, they get assigned paid leave, only to return to a handsome raise and promotion. When Black cops kill a Black suspect, they are immediately suspended without pay. I’ve since heard that they all got fired. What they did was a racist act: They killed Tyre under orders of the White police captain...allegedly.
Now, we will see angry protests and it will all be labeled “woke.” Woke is the new epithet for the 20’s; the new N-word. “Another woke riot!” What a fucking confabulation!
So, solutions? I know my solutions are not inerrant, but it’s a dirty job and somebody’s got to do it. Instead of having a civil temper tantrum, how about an assiduous revolution? How about taking steps in transforming a corrupt society? Now, I am not talking about robbing a bank to finance the revolution. Armed struggle? That is the last resort. I am talking about strategies to outsmart a nuclear-powered republic. Remember: the enemy has the weapons; we have the numbers. Maybe we can smash the state through a bloodless revolution. It’s not impossible. Gandhi almost did it in India. Martin Luther King, Jr. tried to use nonviolent resistance and it almost worked. Why not do the same?
When the cops beat the shit out of you and people witness it on social media, sympathy will go towards you. It is a bigger sacrifice to endure excruciating pain than to die for the revolution. Look at how the optics of the crucifixion has lasted for thousands of years. If Jesus would have used an A-R 15 and shot a fusillade of bullets at Roman soldiers, the whole point of the gospel of Christ would have been mute. When cops used high-powered fire hoses and German Shepherds to attack civil rights activists, it had greater impact upon the public than Black Panthers posing with rifles.
What’s going to happen in the immediate future? These protests will be heated and then fade away. Maybe by the time the time you read this, it will all have come to pass.
0 notes