The Night of Buer

Mitchell was standing in the schoolyard one day. He couldn't go home yet. If you ever could call the abandoned dump he lived in "home". Like always, he had his cell, his bag. He found Ryce and Chris sitting in the bleachers.

Mitchell's dark brown hair crowed down a bit to the tip of his forehead. His brown hoodie was wrinkled slightly.

He had been Ryce and Chris's friend for a little while. They were all bored. Ryce got an idea.

Ryce said " Why don't we play The List?"

Mitchell hesitated. He didn't really have any grudges or rivalries against anyone. But he knew everyone's troubles.

Mitchell said " Jack Fernstein."

Ryce nodded. Fernstein was a year or two older and in Ryce's opinion, too strong for his good.

Mitchell continued " Jack Fernstein. Grade 10. Sins include Envy, Pride and Wrath. DOA on October 3rd, 2011 of steroid overdose. Death occurred at football field at West Aurora High. "

Ryce laughed. Everyone knew that Fernstein was a strong player but he was stocky. The boys didn't even go to West Aurora and they knew that.

Chris said " Parents did not have any comment at Fernstein's funeral as they did not make a appearance during his wake. You got that on paper, Ryce?"

Ryce picked up the piece and paper and handed it to Chris who stuffed it inside his backpack.

Later, the boys grouped up after school in the hallway and Chris opened the bag... only for them to find the piece of paper gone.

Ryce asked " H-Hey, where's the List?"

Chris answered shakily " I-I d-don't know. I-It should be in here..."

The three heard a shout " Hey, losers!"

Jack Fernstein was walking towards them, glaring with gritted teeth.

Mitchell rolled his eyes and said " Oh no, here we go..."

Fernstein said " You idiots think this is funny to do?" before pulling out the List.

The three's eyes shrunk.

Fernstein threw Mitchell against a wall before shoving Ryce and Chris to the ground.

Fernstein walked away, muttering " Bunch of retards."

Ryce and Chris got up. They were annoyed and angry.

Ryce thought " What are we going to do? Wait, I remember...!"

Ryce asked " Mitchell, that guy you said owed you a favor, what was his name?"

Mitchell shrugged and said "Buer."

Chris asked " Do you know where Buer's place is?"

Mitchell said " No, but I got his phone number."

Ryce dialed Buer's number. The three knew that it was their only chance.

Buer asked " Hello, who is this?"

Ryce replied " Ryce and Christopher. We're friends of Mitchell."

Buer said " Oh yes, Mitchell. So does he need a favor?"

Chris said " WE need a favor. A big one."

Buer asked " Time, place and person."

Mitchell answered " Jackson Fernstein, 7:30 pm, 130 Holloway."

Buer said in a low voice " I'll be there." before hanging up.

The three walked home. They had no idea if this was going to work or not. They knew one thing for sure: tonight was the night of Buer.

Late that night, the three of them met up across the street from Fernstein's house. They were told at 7: 15 to look for a nondescript person wearing gloves, a fedora and a long, brown trench-coat.

Ryce checked his watch. It was 8: 50. They had been waiting for 1 hour and 35 minutes.

The three were dressed in black tracksuits and black beanie hats.

Chris said " Hey, Mitchell. When is this guy showing up?"

Ryce said " Yeah. We can't wait all day."

Mitchell pointed to a person wearing a brown fedora, a long brown trench-coat and black pants.

Ryce gave the signal. The person, Buer had replied. He walked inside.

They all huddled together into one group.

Ryce asked " Do we all know the plan?"

Chris and Mitchell nodded. This better be worth the wait.

Ryce ran to the back, holding a pair of clippers. Chris ran to the 1st floor window, holding a video camera. What Chris saw nearly made him laugh out loud.

It was Fernstein in a clown costume with girl's makeup on and with the biggest pair of shoes in the world, on what looked like the set of 90210 singing "Friday."

Ryce ran to the back. He looked around the cable box until he found the cord that controlled the electricity in the house.

Meanwhile, Mitchell and Buer were upstairs in the room right above where Feinstein was.

The ceiling above Fernstein was practically sandpaper. It might as well been since there was a thin layer of something similar underneath the wood. Mitchell unscrewed a few floorboards, pulled a bucket of slime and then he pulled out his walkie-talkie.

Mitchell said " Ryce, Buer and I are at the ready."

Ryce said " All right, I'm about to cut the lights. Mitchell, when the lights go out, pour the slime. Chris, keep on recording until Fernstein runs out. Buer will take it all from there."

Ryce cut the cord with the clippers. The lights went out in all the rooms.

Fernstein said " Mom. Dad. Anyone playing with lights again?"

Mitchell began to pour the slime on the ceiling while Ryce went into the basement and put spiders and cobwebs there.

Fernstein went into the dining room, meaning that the boys had to leave now.

Ryce escaped through the basement window and Mitchell left through the 2nd floor window.

Chris ran across the street to meet the other two. 15 minutes later, police were hauling Fernstein who was handcuffed with a bag of " sugar" in one of the policeman's hands.

Fernstein protested " It's not mine, man! Someone framed me!"

The neighbors came out. Unfortunately for Fernstein, the majority of them went to West Aurora, the place where only Fernstein attended.

Students were laughing. Adults were shaking their heads and face palming. Fernstein was in a psychotic rage, stopped by only a needle to the arm.

Buer came out of the house, taking off his fedora and trench coat to reveal a tall, reddish brown creature with cat's ears and a tail.

Ryce and Chris were in shock. Mitchell was grinning.

Buer said " Well, there's your favor. Just remember, you three owe me one."

Ryce and Chris, still in shock nodded. Mitchell nodded as well.

Buer said " Have a nice night, boys." before putting the fedora and trench coat back on and walking away.

Chris asked " W-Who was that?"

Mitchell grinned and answered " That was Buer."