Disclaimer: I own Scorch, Gig, and Vinny. Everyone else are real people that my friends and I slashed together. It's so much fun to slash random people! Try it! This story wasn't written to offend anyone. If you have a problem with this story in any way, then you have a problem. Kudos!

Why There's Really A Dress Code

By Demon

School. Yeah, I've heard of it. I've attended the place a few times. Yet many things irk be about the big brick building down the street. Number one, who in their right mind complains about a stinkin' dress code? I, for one, am extremely happy that the administration supports a. healthy relationship with clothing. Girls' walking around in mid-drifts and thigh high skirts does not impress me. But if you're thinking that's why the principal enforced a code with articles of clothing you can never find, you are wrong. Horribly wrong.

Lunch

"What the hell is this stuff?" Gig slid into her seat. 11:46, lunch had begun. Gig was one of my best friends. All into cartooning and dissecting the exotic not mention toxic, foods of our cafeteria.

"It's. lunch?" Ah, lunch. The only good class of the day. Two math classes, biology, and advanced world history totally suck.

"Oh my God." Vince (better known as Vinny) and Scorch had taken their usual places beside us. I looked up to see what they were oh-my-goding about. My mouth dropped open as did Gig's and half the crowd of the cafeteria. Hushed whispers erupted in the room; Spencer, better known as Spence the Pimp, had entered his domain. Silver medallions, or 'bling- bling' as I had heard it referred too, covered his maroon silky shirt. He wore tight, black, flared, leather, pants that were attractively riding up his ass. Wait a minute. attractively?

I turned back around, concentrating hard on my lunch. My friends followed, trying to eat, but between the school lunch and the traumatizing homo that was standing by the trashcans, it was incredibly hard.

Gig gave up on eating and resorted to cutting up the rock-hard biscuit on her tray. I left her to the little world she called her own as she happily stabbed the grotesques pieces of whatever that was. I gathered my trash, stuffed the remains of the cheese sandwich that had been my meal into the brown paper bag, and went to dispose of it.

I sighed and rolled my eyes. Would you hurry up and get out of my way? Two cheerleader girls in front of me were giggling and hitching up their peppy skirts a little more. Only because Spencer was beside the trash cans. I sighed again. Please people, he is GAY! He'll never like you, and why would you want him to anyway? I asked mentally. They finally threw away their Slim-Fast cans, winked to Spencer, and walked on, laughing obnoxiously. I stepped up, hurriedly threw the bag away, and tried to walk on. But, not to my surprise, Spence's arm shot out in front of me, hitting me in the chest. I stared at him, and he looked longingly back. His eyes became withered in flame, the look of lust and passion. Oh fuck. He wants me. He licked his lips and I grimaced.

"Meet me in the locker rooms tomorrow." He breathed into my ear, and then moved his arm and I walked past. I must have looked green because when I sat back down, Scorch asked,

"What happened?" Everyone looked at me, including Gig, which was hard to get her to look at something when she was experimenting.

"I am the new love interest for. for." They understood. Each of them looked at me sympathetically, Spence the Pimp always, always got what he wanted.

Algebra

The one subject I really truly hate. And I'm not one for hating. I sat by Scorch, helping her along the enormous highway of math. Gig sat on the other side of me, listening in on the conversations and trying to pick up as much of the dreaded subject as possible. I could feel eyes boring into the back of my head, when I remembered. Spencer was in this class. I closed my eyes and cursed none-to-gently. My eyes reopened to see Michael staring behind me, sighing. I knew whom he was staring at and if you took a wild guess, you probably would too. Is everyone in this school gay besides me? I wondered.

"Mr. Hassid? You have a phone call on line three." The intercom made Gig jump. The three of us looked to each other and smiled. We had thought up alternate theories about Mr. Hassid and his many phone calls. A) He stopped every class to go make out with the new Latin teacher down by the gym. B) He really would for a secret underground cult that needed his every bit of attention due to the numerous signals on their baby monitors. (That one was from Gig watching Signs one too many times.) Anyway, Mr. Hassid left the room, leaving the class to the fundamentals of tenth graders. Scorch, Gig, and I were conducting a new conversation on what the cult had discovered now, when I, and everyone else, started tuning into the daily Days Of Our High School Pimp episode.

"Spencer?" It was Michael, "do you think you could." Spencer interrupted him.

"Sorry babe, I'm taken." I shuddered, thinking about what had happened at the trashcans earlier that day.

"But I though you said you loved me!" The room went silent.

"I'm sorry Mikey, but I'm booked." I turned just as Michael flung himself on Spencer, then I turned back around when Spencer changed his mind about being booked. I sighed. Does school always have to be so eventful? I didn't have to watch. From every noise they made, I could visualize. And it wasn't pretty. The two were tongue wrestling when Mr. Hassid returned. I swear, if he weren't a teacher, he would have joined them. Is it every day math class turns into an orgy?

"Excuse me boys, that's." He didn't get to finish. Michael was on the floor with Spencer on top of him. The Pimp ripped off his shirt, leaving him bare chested and making me want to barf. Michael groped at Spencer's mouth, probing with his tongue the unknown places of somebody's throat. His hands traveled down to his pants, almost unzipping the zipper when the door opened.

"Mr. Hassid? I have a note from." It was Gary. Michael's boyfriend. How intriguing. "MICHAEL?" Spencer stood up, smirking. Gary was in shock. He walked over, smacked Michael in the face, and turned to Spencer. The Pimp gave him one of those 'you-wouldn't-hit-me-I'm-far-too-sexy' looks, and Gary melted. Spencer smiled winningly, and straddled Michael. Cary sat patiently, waiting his turn. I gagged. Scorch was scribbling furiously into her notebook, and I think Gig was asleep. Just when I really was about to show everyone my lunch, the bell rang.

"THANK YOU GOD!" I yelled, grabbing my books and fleeing the class. I could hear Scorch give a disappointed sigh, and Gig walked out of the class after me.

"So. What happened in Math?" She asked, really wanting to know why she had tripped over two guys fucking each other while proceeding to leave the class. Before I could answer, Scorch appeared behind us.

"That, was the best class I've had all year." Gig looked confused as Scorched said this.

"Why? What happened?" Scorch and I looked at each other, and both burst out laughing.

School Council
".Due to acts of recent revealing clothing, the administration is asking that we consider a new and improved dress code. All in favor, say I." A chorus of I's sounded throughout the meeting hall. Thank God for sane people. I can imagine our school being run by idiot cheerleaders and their dumb ass boyfriends. I looked around, surveying the persons around me, and came to Spencer's face. He looked as though the world were crashing down on him. I turned back around, feeling something I knew I shouldn't be feeling. I partly paid attention to the rest of the meet; this new feeling overwhelming me.

Was I feeling sorry for Spence the Pimp?