Pssshhh... a crack fic? From me? Naww... this is completely serious. Character death and everything. DUH!

Sarcastic? Me? No. Never. I don't even know what that word means.

Warning. Mildness.

P.S. No. I was not on crack or any other drugs (I didn't even have pizza!) when I wrote this. Never done crack and never claim to have done it. OH, and I don't own any crack, so if your a Police officer, this isn't my public drug making deal thing-a-ma-jig! OH! DO A JIG!


Crackity Crack Crack Crack and Don't Come Back

Once upon a time, a man named Chuck roamed the world.

Wait! Stop! This isn't right. Lets try again...

In a galaxy far far away... (cue Star Wars music)

Nope. Still wrong.

Mucho antes...

No! Still wrong. Okay, lets skip the fancy openings...

"Kayla!" someone yelled from behind us. Well, actually, this wasn't just another normal person; this was Chuck Bartowski, the cutest, most cuddle worthy nerd at our school. Lucky for us, we had four out of six classes with him and therefore had plenty of Chuck-staring-at time.

Slowly, as not to look desperate, we turned around and watched his gorgeous brown locks of hair float above the rest of the crowd as he attempted to squeeze his way through to us.

"Kayla, did you... uh..." Chuck stuttered. Once, we had heard his older sister Ellie in the halls talking about how he stutters when he talks to girls he likes.

"Yes, Chuck?" Kayla asked, trying to keep her voice neutral and her hands to herself; a challenge for both of us.

"Oh uhm... Did you copy down the History homework?" He finally asked.

"Oh, no! I forgot!" She replied, slightly panicked with a hefty side of disappointment for being unable to help.

This was my chance! "I did!" I butttttt in. From memory, I recite it. "We have to read chapter 19, take notes and answer the end of the chapter questions." I flaunt. Mwahahaha, and Natty takes the boy.

"Uh.. thanks, Natty." He stuttered once more. AH! My mind screamed. He stuttered! he thinks I'm cute! AIIIIIIEEEEEEEE!

"Anytime," I sweetly reply as I see Kayla giving me a dirty look out of the corner of my eye that is fixed on the nerdy boy standing in front of me, clad in his converse and all.

For a prodigious amount of time, we all just stood there staring at each other.

"Hi Chuck." Sarah flirted as she walked up and hung on his arm. Sarah Walker--The sporty, flirty, drop dead gorgeous blond who we had to compete with.

I swear, if he asks her to prom, I was going to off myself. Or even better yet: her!

"Sarah!" Someone called from the crowd. "Sarah!" He yelled again as he caught up to us and started pulling Sarah off.

"What the hell, Bryce?" Bryce Larkin--resident douche bag. Not only did he steal Chuck's girl--which, quite frankly, we became okay with--in a quite depressing manner, but now he's gunning for Sarah.

Even though Kayla and I want Chuck for ourselves, we hate Bryce. How dare someone do such a thing to such a wonderful, dreamy--

"Let go, Bryce." Sarah said as she swatted him off.

Chuck, like us, sat and watched, not knowing what to do. Finally, after her older step brother John Casey came and helped her with his big, handsome muscles, Bryce was gone.

Oh, but that John Casey was something else. To people in the know, and, well, people just in general, he was known as simply Casey.

His muscles are huge, and he's a total piece of beefcake, with extra macho sauce smothered on top, but he's also a total nerd. Kayla and I heard from this one girl, who knows this dog, who is frenimies (they're really madly in love, just in denial) with his crazy cat, who is owned by this little boy, whose mom heard from a lady down the street that Casey attended this big geek convention. Apparently he was wearing some geeky checkered shirt buttoned all the way up, slacks, and some horrendously geeky, squeaky white shoes. And then there were these really, like, totally geek-screaming glasses.

Oh, and then Chuck told us that that's where those two befriended each other.

Like, SO weird.

"Come on, Chuck." Sarah wrapped her arm around his and they walked off.

"Bye Natty, Kayla." Chuck said as they left.

In the distance, we could hear Chuck and Sarah laughing, and could only imagine the amount of sweat accumulating on his oh so gracious palms.

Which is kinda gross, unless it's -oogles- Chuck Bartowwwssskkiiiii...

-cue dreamy eyes and drool. lots of it-

What was surprising, though, was hearing her ask him to prom.

It. Was. OVER.

Standing in the halls, our hearts eternally broken, we stayed still.

"Hi Natty." Hot chem guy said as he walked by.

"Uh... hi?" I reply, not knowing what to do. My heart is shattering, but here is this really really really really REALLY hotttttt guy!

Just as suddenly, another REALLY hot guy walks up, this time to Kayla. "Hello, Kayla." She oogled. I oogled.

And we all lived happily ever after...

...

...

......

.........

(What? You think you know what's coming next? I don't)

....

........................

..........................................

-does the hustle-

..........

nnnnnnnnnn for natty

kkkkkkk for kayla

lllllllllll for lips. (VEGGGIIIEE TALESSS! I LOVE MAH LIPSSSS!)

ccccccccc for cookie monster! AH! RUN AWAY!

WHEAT...

.........

TO BE VERBS. AHHOOOSSS. -DIES-

......

.......

. .. ... .... ..... ...... ....... ........ .........

SNAKES, GCG. GO! SNAKES! GOOO! RUN! AHHH! -runs in circles-

...... ....... ....... ..... ... ....................................... .

1 Word: Water Guns.

That's two words.

Stop counting, geeze.

Party pooper. Pou-Per to sound "fannn-sayy"

NO! I do not poop at parties...

Why of course you do! It's like, SO the thing to do now a days!

Really? Why, I had no idea.

Yeah, dude. Like, you snarf down some glowing pixie sticks, throw eggs at people, and then you dance around in the neighborhoooooooooooohd.

.....

. . . . . . . . . . .

We now interrupt this... "Crackitie" filled experience with a commercial.

The technology of the decade! NO! Of the century!

Drumroll...

FLASHLIGHTS! Whattt whattt! I mean, come on! These things are ingenioussses.

. ... ... ........ ............ . . .. .....

That's what a hamburger's all about!

...........

, . ? ! ~ ; ' " : .......

Until....

"Peanut Butter."

"Whipped Cream."

"Peanut. Butter."

"Whipped. Cream."

"Peanut Butter."

"Whipped Cream."

"PB!" She paused. "Yeah, that's right. I WENT there."

He scoffed. "OH, whatever! Consider your car and credit card taken away!"

"Ressiddeenntt Dadddd... It's Cole Barker, we're talking about. He's the hottest boy in school. You don't understand." Bromine, the girl who is so oddly adamant about peanut butter, stomped her foot.

"Yes, well, this talk is inappropriate for someone of your age."

"RD, I'm 26. Me wanting to rub peanut butter all over this delicious guy is not--"

"But see, it's where you're wrong." Out of his pocked popped this long silver pointer stick, a projector, and a screen. Suddenly the hall lights were of and Kayla, Kayla's hot boy, Me, my hot boy, and Casey were all gathered around the screen.

On the screen was a picture of this supposedly hot Cole kid. Yeah, no. Ick. And he's like, SOOOO old. How he's in High School, I have no clue. But seriously, he looks like... 58 at best.

"You see, with a man of that dark of skin, the peanut butter blends in too much. Therefore, with him, you must use whipped cream." The man, also known as Resident Dad (aka RD), explained.

Kayla's hand pipped up.

"Yes?" RD asked, pointing his shiny silver pointer stick at her.

"Why don't we compromise?" Kayla walked up to the now present computer and pulled up a new picture for the screen. "See, we have the peanut butter in the key places..." Kayla stole his stick and turned it into a laser pointer, pointing the laser at the elbows and ears. "and the rest of his body is smothered in whipped cream."

Everyone clapped.

"What a fantastic idea!" Bromine cheered. "I have an idea!"

Everyone stopped clapping and dancing and looked at her.

"How about I invent the new pancake? The whipped butter pancake!"

Everyone stared in silence. Finally, I spoke up. "So you mean you're like, the Bromine? Famous pancake inventor?"

Bromine looked at me and giggled. "Of course! How many other Bromines do you know?"

I looked at her seriously, counting. "Actually, you'd be surprised."

"Oh, well..." Bromine pressed a button and a hugeamoungous disco ball and music fell from the ceiling. "Let's dance!"

And everyone started dancing! And RD started passing out these drinks that smelled a lot like alcohol.

And then, out from the shadows came a man. He wanted to be called T.

So we called him T. No biggie.

I sniffed my drink. Then T said, "You can only live once! SO LIVE!" and back into the shadows he went.

The drinks name I had a hard time pronouncing. Mooo-heeee-toe? What a, like, STUPID name.

And then the quarreling continued. Except this time, someone new had joined. Actually, two people.

The one dude called himself Notorious. He seemed all tough and bam, but then he started singing Hannah Montana. OH the horror. "Peaaanuuutt Butttterr andddd Whipppeddd creaaaammm... You get the BEEESSSTT OF BOOTTHHH WOOORRLLLDSS if you PUT THEM TOGETHER and you ROCK ROCK THE... uh... SHOW!"

And then RD and Bromine started getting at it, even though we had so clearly decided what worked best.

And then a girl named Z (yeah, another letter name. I thought that was, like, totally funkayy too!) took out a video camera and filmed us. I hope this doesn't get put on youtube, man.

Kayla and I found out the names of our hot boys. Apparently, mine was Zac and hers went by the name of Awesome.

And I thought that was just straight on AWESOME!

We decided that for Awesome, Whipped Cream is the way to go, and for Zac, PB is his thannngggggg.

Casey said something about Sarah and Chuck--saadddnesss to our broken hearts--mixing their peanut butter and chocolate together, adding some whipped cream for extra fun.

And then, out of the blue, the girl who goes by initials that I just get too confused to say--SLFW, LWFS, BOB?--popped out of nowhere--actually, she probably came out of a jack in the box, because that's just chill--in some blond country singer's shirt and yelled in the middle of the PB vs. WC argument, "JELLY!"