"Come on, Elle."

"No way."

"It won't hurt. Just a few whoopee cushions on his chair and-"

"No! I'm not going to prank Mr. Keesing today."

Mouth looked hurt. "But you always help us."

"That was before he caught us and gave us a week's worth of detentions."

Elle, Mouth, and Mikey were standing in the deserted school hallway, trying to decide what to do. Elle had lived her whole life in Astoria, and Mouth was the first friend she'd made. She was also pretty well acquainted with Mikey, Chunk, and Data. When you got to know her, Elle was headstrong, adventurous, and she didn't listen to anybody except herself. She didn't like being a girl either. She liked running and riding her dirt bike with the boys, and her mother wasn't too pleased about it. Elle had a very delicate frame, with long blonde hair that she always tied in a sloppy ponytail to keep out of her way. She had a thin face with a light sprinkle of freckles, and clear, bright blue eyes.

Mikey continued to beg. "Elle, come on. Please?" he pulled his best puppy-dog eyes. "Just this once."

She sighed. "Fine. Let's just get this over with."

Mouth smirked. "Knew you'd come eventually. Anyway, did I detect fear?"

"Fear, ha! I laugh in the face of danger!" Both her friends laughed appreciatively.

"Did you guys go to the soccer game last night?" Mouth said as they set off down the hallway.

"No, but I assume we lost."

"Yeah, we did," Mouth admitted. "But guess what? Nick sprained his wrist when he dove after the ball!"

"No!" Elle gasped as Mikey said, "Yes!" Nick Story was the star soccer player on the Astoria Junior High soccer team, the Trojans. He was very popular, very handsome, but also very vain and self-obssessed, so as a result they hated him.

"Is he alright?" Elle asked anxiously.

"Yeah, he'll live," Mouth said, disappointed. "I was kind of hoping he'd have to be hospitalized for a year or two."

"You should be hospitalized, Mouth."


"Your crazy obssession with your hair!"

Bummer!" Mikey Walsh sighed, falling back on his bed. "Nothing exciting ever happens around here anyway. Who needs the Goon Docks?" He flipped over. "Who needs this house, I can't wait to get out of here!"

"Really?" his brother Brand asked over his weights.

"No," Mikey admitted. "I'm just trying to delate myself. No, no... um... dictate myself."

"Delude yourself," his friend Elle Wood corrected him. She was hanging upside down on a chair, her long legs dangling in the air. Her long blonde hair amost touched the floor.

"That's what I said," Mikey said absently, leafing through a comic book.

"I know how you feel, wimp. I'm sure gonna miss this place too." Brand said. Right then, there was a knock at the door, and Brand scrambled up. "Adopted wuss," he muttered.

Unfortunately, Mikey heard him. "Adopted wuss? I'm not an dopted wuss! I'll kill you Brand!" he rambled, following him down the stairs. Elle sighed and rose from her perch on the chair.

"Ugh, it's Mouth," Brand said disgustedly as Elle came down the stairs. Mikey unlocked the door to let their friend in.

"Hey, Mikey," Mouth said in a high voice. "Yo, Mikey," he said gruffly. "Hey, Mikey, seen Elle anywhere?"

"Yeah, she's upstairs," Mikey grumbled. "Oh, wait, never mind, she's coming down."

"What up, Elle?" Mouth greeted her. As the only girl Goonie, Mouth took a chance to impress her at every opportunity.

"The sky," she said nastily, joining them in the living room.

"What's going down?" Mouth asked, planting his foot on the coffee table.

"Get your foot off the table," Brand ordered almost automatically.

"You got it. What's going down, guys?" They ignored him. "Come on, guys, what's the matter? Is it nuclear Saturday or something, what is it? Come on, guys." Mouth's tone turned to pleading. "This is our last weekend together. The last Goonie weekend," he emphasized. "We gotta be going out in style. Cruising the coast-" he made a sweeping motion with his arm- "sniffing some lace, downing the brews, but noooo!" He squatted by Brand, who was stretching his arms. "The one older brother had to go and screw it up."

Brand made a swipe at Mouth, but Mouth ducked. "Flunking your driver's test?" he continued. "I don't know what to do with you."

"Hey you guys! Let me in!" a voice yelled from outside. Elle raced Mouth to the door, but he beat her. "Jerrrk alert!" he sang, opening the door and leaning on the doorframe. "It's Chunk," he called to the inside.

"I just saw the most amazing thing in my entire life!" Chunk rattled the bars of the gate.

"First you gotta do the Truffle Shuffle," Mouth told him.

Chunk's face fell. "Come on."

"Do it."

"Aw, Mouth. Let him in," Elle protested. Mouth ignored her.

"Come on!"

"Do it!" Mouth commanded.

Chunk climbed onto a nearby tree stump, grumbling to himself. He sighed and pulled his shirt up, shaking and making gurgling noises. Mouth started laughing hysterically, pointing at Chunk.

"Cut it out, Mouth," Elle said, exasperated by her friend's antics. Mouth scowled at her as she pulled a string hanging off the ceiling, which set off about a dozen chain reactions to open the gate.

"Thanks, Elle," Chunk said, relieved. Everyone went inside, but Mouth shut the door in Chunk's face.

"You turd!" Chunk complained, pushing the door open and following them inside, glaring at Mouth. "Listen, okay? You guys will never believe me. There was two cop cars, okay? And they were chasing this four-wheel deal, this real neat ORV, and there were bullets flying all over the place. It was the most amazing thing I ever saw!"

"More amazing than the time Michael Jackson came to your house to use the bathroom?" Mikey said, feeding his fish.

"More amazing than the time you saved all those old people in that nursing home fire?" Brand asked.

"More amazing than the time you ate your weight at Godfather's pizza?" Mouth said skeptically.

"Okay, okay... Michael Jackson didn't come to my house to use the bathroom..." Chunk sounded defeated. "But his sister did!" he added brightly.

After a pause, Brand asked, "Hey, is it just me, or is the Mission Impossible theme playing?"

Mikey and Elle looked at each other. "Open the door!" Mouth yelled. Mikey complied.

"Wait! The screen door-" Elle began, but too late. Data flew in, knocking down Elle, Mikey and Chunk like a line of dominoes. Luckily, Mikey caught Elle and saved her a hard knock to the ground.

"Jesus Christ, Elle, how much do you weigh?" he moaned from under her.

"Ninety-five," she replied tartly.

"Hey!" Chunk said suddenly. "I bet you guys thought I was gonna drop it, huh?" he laughed. Elle looked over Mikey's shoulder and saw Chunk holding the statue triumphantly. He must have knocked it over from Data's entry. Chunk grinned. "I knew you were going to expect that from good ol' Chunk-" he said, putting it back on the table without looking. Unfortunately, he missed, and it fell to the floor nonetheless.

"You idiot!" Brand yelled as Mikey flew across the table to retrieve the statue. He came back up a second later, inhaler clenched between his teeth.

"Look, it's not broken! It's perfect!" Chunk laughed nervously.

"Oh my GOD!" Mikey screeched, inhaler falling out of his mouth and onto the floor. He dove back to the floor, not for his inhaler but for the missing piece. "That's my mom's most favorite piece! Awww!..." he tried to stick the... Elle turned pink as she realized what piece was missing.

"You wouldn't be here if it wasn't," Mouth said smoothly. Elle started to laugh. Mouth grinned in spite of himself. "See, the ladies dig humor."

"Shut up, Mouth!" Mikey said.

"Shut up, Mouth," Brand agreed.

"Hey, any of you guys hear of Detroit?" Data asked in his high-pitched, babyish voice, poring over a map of the United States.

"No," Elle replied.

"Why, Elle!" Mouth said, appalled. "That's where Motown started!" he told her, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Also got the highest murder rate in the country."

"Well, let me tell you guys, that's where we're moving when we lose our house tomorrow."

"Shut up about that, it'll never happen, my dad'll fix it!" Mikey said defiantly.

"Yeah, sure he will," Brand rolled his eyes. "If he gets his next 400 paychecks by tomorrow."

"That's wrong, Brand, it won't happen!" Mikey shouted at him. At that moment, the front door opened. Everyone looked up to see Mrs. Walsh, followed by a rather fat woman carrying several bags and an umbrella.

"Hi, mom!" Mikey said, shoving the broken statue behind his back. He took a quick breath from his inhaler.

"Hi, hi!" Chunk followed his friend's lead.

"I see Data dropped by," Mrs. Walsh noted in a tired voice.

"Hi, Mrs. Walsh, how are you?" Data greeted her over the second round of "Hi"s.

"Everyone, this is Rosalita. Rosalita's going to help with the packing until my arm gets better," Mrs. Walsh informed them.

"Hola!" they chorused.

"Rosalita doesn't speak a word of English, and I know some of you have taken some Spanish in school-" Mrs. Walsh struggled to remove her coat.

"Well, Mrs. Walsh, I speak perfect Spanish," Mouth stepped forward. "And if it's any help to you, I'd be glad to be able to communicate with Rosalita." Elle snorted.

"Oh, you're a lifesaver, Clark-" Mouth flinched at the use of his proper name- "Come with us, will you?"

"Of course, Mrs. Walsh."

"Mikey, no more potato chips. Oh, hello, Mikey," Mrs. Walsh added to Brand as she passed him.

"It's Brand, ma!" Brand called after her.

The second Mrs. Walsh rounded the corner, Mikey swiveled around back to the statue. "Foowooink wer mobs gwona otis?" Chunk asked through a mouthful of chips.


Chunk repeated his request, but it was no more clearer than the first.

"Gosh, I wonder if she'll notice..." Mikey ran his hands through his hair.

"Dat's wut I sad!" Chunk said.

"Of course she'll notice, she notices everything," Mikey replied.

"Well, can't you try gluing it back on?" Elle suggested.

"Gluing it? Oh my gosh, Elle, you're a lifesaver," Mikey said, darting past her to the kitchen. A few seconds later he came back with a bottle of Elmer's. "Chunk, you do the honors."

"There, how's that?" he asked a few minutes later.

"Oh, you idiot, you glued it on upside down!" Mikey exclaimed in disbelief. Elle burst out laughing.

"If God meant it that way you'd all be pissing in your faces!" Brand added as Mikey took another breath from his inhaler.

"It looks fine to me," Chunk said, dismayed. Data chuckled as he looked over Chunk's handiwork.

"...You're so fluent in languages, Clark! That was so nice of you!" Mrs. Walsh gushed to Mouth, ruffling his hair.

"Nice is my middle name, Mrs. Walsh," Mouth said, smiling at her like an angel. He pulled out his comb and ran it through his hair again.

"Okay everyone, I'm taking Rosalita to the supermarket. Now listen, I am going to be back in an hour. Mikey, I want you to stay inside. Brand, if he's coming down with asthma I don't want him out in the rain." Mrs. Walsh gave out orders.

"He should be in a plastic bubble," Brand mumbled.

"I'm serious, Brandon. That's not funny. If he takes one step outside you will be in the deepest shh-shhh...shh-"

"Shit, ma," Brand said.

Mrs. Walsh smacked his shoulder. "I don't like that language, but that's what you'll be in." She turned to Data. "And you, Donna-"


"Data, you use the back door from now on."

"Alright," Data said glumly. Mrs. Walsh looked at where Chunk, Mouth, and Elle were sitting, her brow furrowing. "What is that?" she asked, pointing at them.

The three automatically moved closer together to hide the statue.

"What is that?" Mrs. Walsh repeated. "That is a mess, I want it cleaned up!" The three of them followed her finger to the chip crumbs from Chunk that lay on the floor.

"Ohhh, yeahhh, sure!" Chunk said, nodding his head.

"You got it," Mouth agreed.

"Oh, yes, Mrs. Walsh," Elle nodded her head vigorously.

"One hour, kids, and I'll be back. Bye baby," she added to Mikey, kissing his cheek.

"Bye!" Everyone chorused as Mrs. Walsh left with Rosalita. "Bye bye, senorita!" Mouth cackled after her.