Author's Note: Shizamsky, dudes! I couldn't help myself – I had to give in to the plot bunny that's been bothering me for the last few days, and whaddaya know, my first SoR fanfic. :D Hope you guys all enjoy!

Title: Rudie Can't Fail

Summary: The School of Rock thought they were screwed when they couldn't find a replacement bassist for Katie – well, at least until a girl by the name of Maddie James showed up at Horace Green.

Rating: T. 'Nuff said.

Pairing: Freddy/OC. DER. I can't help myself – Spazzy's pretty damn cute. :)

Disclaimer: I own only Maddie James and the plot for this here story – MY character and MY plot line. Other than that, I own nothing. Anywho, read on and enjoy! :D

NOTE TO ALL READERS: Okay – I'll say right now that as far as opinions go, to each his (or I should say her) own; and as far as reviews go, freakin' give 'em to me. If you like the story, GREAT; if you don't, EVEN BETTER. If you think the story could be better, shoot me a PM with ideas for improvement. As an author, I'm a complete whore for constructive criticism – sad, yes, but very true. I practically live for constructive criticism. :)

That aside, if you're only looking to haze me and/or bash my story just to be a jackass, DON'T BOTHER READING MY STORY, REVIEWING MY STORY, OR PM-ING ME. It's not that I can't take the heat of you hardcore flamers. I could if I felt like it – and at the moment, I don't feel like it. I'm sorry, but you select people just annoy the hell outta me, and frankly, you aren't worth my time.

Another thing – I get it with the Mary-Sues. Super-perfect, super-pretty, smart/dumb, super-talented blah-blah-blah – I GET IT. THEY SUCK. They're the poster children for "I obviously didn't think about my character or my story". I hate 'em just as much as the next person. That said though, I DON'T WANNA HEAR IT (well, I do – just not in the "your story and character sucks balls and you should stop writing" style). If you think my OC's the epitome of a Mary-Sue and that I need to kill her dead – 1. I'll try to spruce her up so she's realistic; and 2. – Fabulous that you think so, but PLEASE, DON'T BROADCAST HOW MUCH YOU HATE MY CHARACTER TO THOSE THAT ARE TRYING TO ENJOY MY WORK.

I'm not looking to win a Pulitzer for my fanfic; I'm just here to entertain the masses with a twist on a crowd favorite, and this is one way to do it. So, read on, and if you like it, keep reading; if you don't, then spare us all the Charlie Sheen-esque roast and find something else that suits you. END OF DISCUSSION.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Maddie James wanted to keel over and die when she walked into her Aunt Dana's spare bedroom Monday morning and saw the uniform laid out neatly on the mattress. Uniforms meant private school; and in Maddie's eyes, private school meant no freedom or joy for the next seven hours of her day.

She swore softly, and ran a hand over her sleep-swollen face. "No, she's not making me do this…" she moaned miserably as she squinted at the blouse-skirt-jacket combo and white knee-high socks in front of her. "Oh my god, no… What the fuck is Aunt Dana doing to me?"

With a hiss, Maddie pivoted on her heel, and stomped back downstairs to confront her aunt. She stalked into the kitchen, where she found her guardian sitting in the breakfast nook, rereading headliners from the newspaper, drinking the same cup of coffee that she'd poured almost twenty minutes ago.

"I take it you saw the uniform?" Aunt Dana asked statically, not bothering to remove her gaze from her reading material to look at her niece.

"Yeah, I saw the freckin' uniform," Maddie scowled in irritation before cutting to the chase. "What's it doing in my room?"

Aunt Dana blinked. "I laid it out while you were eating breakfast." She paused briefly, actually tearing her eyes from the Monday morning paper to look at Maddie, who was rapidly growing more pissed off as the seconds ticked by. "Look, I already know that you're here to complain about the uniform and all, but face it – you're enrolled at Horace Green Prep now until your mother returns, and that's that. Clear?"

"YOU PUT ME IN PREP SCHOOL-"

"Answer the question, Madeleine."

"Crystal," Maddie ground out through her teeth, now wanting desperately to reach out and strangle Aunt Dana for both the surprise enrollment and use of her much-hated first name.

"Glad to hear. Now get dressed, and do it quickly – it's a twenty-minute drive to the school, and I'm not about to let you waltz in late."

Maddie huffed in deep aggravation, but she reluctantly backtracked upstairs to the bedroom, slammed the door shut, and exchanged her pajamas for the uniform in silence and privacy.

This fucking blows, Maddie's thoughts grumbled in aggravation as she finished buttoning up her blouse, and got to work on the knee-highs. Not only did my aunt stick me in private school, but I have to wear this stupid fucking getup, too. Angrily, she shoved her right foot into a sock, and yanked it up her leg roughly (maybe a little too roughly), causing the bottom to split and a run to form along it. As soon as that happened, Maddie snarled in frustration. Goddamn it, and I fucking HATE these fucking knee-high socks! Arrgh, FUCK!

Quickly, Maddie finished with the socks, and after pulling on a beat-to-hell pair of Corcoran jump boots (as much as she despised having to wear the uniform, she'd be damned if she was gonna walk around her new school with visibly fucked up-looking socks like she was a redneck – hence, on went the jump boots) and dropping six or so F-bombs, she ducked into the hallway bathroom, brushed her teeth, and got to work on the thick, dark-brown, wild Irish pain-in-the-ass on her head that was her hair.

On most days, there was a routine Maddie followed that involved a quick shower, a bit of hair product, and – if she ever got far enough – a good hour of blow-drying her hair into submission if she wanted it to look good.

Today, however, obviously wasn't one of those days. No – at the moment, the most Maddie could do to tame her hair was take a paddle brush to it and put it into some sporty little ponytail. So, that's what she did – she beat at her hair viciously with the brush, gathered it at the crown of her head into a high ponytail, tied it with a hair tie, and threw on a wide electric-blue headband for good measure.

Briefly, Maddie looked at her reflection in the mirror, pulling her mouth to one side as she looked at her hair. Not exactly perfect, but it'll work for now.

"MADELEINE, GET DOWN HERE BEFORE YOU'RE LATE FOR SCHOOL!" Aunt Dana yelled up from the bottom of the stairwell.

Maddie shook her head. "Yeah yeah yeah, I'm coming!"

With a sigh, she darted back into the bedroom, looped her arm through the strap of her messenger pack, grabbed her silver iPod classic off the nearby dresser, and headed downstairs, muttering agitated obscenities under her breath while she crammed her headphones into her ear canals to block out the sound of her aunt's incessant yelling.

"All right, I'm ready," Maddie huffed boredly. "Let's jet."

Aunt Dana shook her head, and gave her niece a quick eyeball. "About time. We'll be lucky if we can get you to Horace Green before the bell…" She immediately trailed off when her eyes fell on Maddie's jump boot-clad feet. "You are not wearing those to school, Madeleine-"

"Okay, one – for the love of God, PUH-LEASE call me Maddie; and two – one of the socks has a huge run in it, and there's no way in hell I'm gonna let anybody see it. Capische? Please, they're the only shoes I have that'll cover the run! I don't wanna look tacky on my first day of school! Cut me some slack!"

Aunt Dana looked at Maddie skeptically, but she nodded. "Fair enough, but you'd better not get in trouble for those. Now c'mon, we've gotta get you outta here."

Maddie rolled her eyes. "'Bout damn time," she mumbled to herself as she walked outside into the chilly October morning and to her aunt's BMW. Sluggishly, she opened the passenger door and climbed in, slamming the door shut as she put her iPod on shuffle and went through the albums in search of something good to listen to. Luckily, after a few rejects, Maddie came across the Offspring's Americana; that worked for her.

With a sigh, Maddie cranked the volume, watched the passing scenery, and tuned out of reality as she headed off towards her new school.