Chapter Text
Everything had gone terribly. Marco was now in jail. On the contrary, his former class—now taught by a teacher who didn’t make them sew bondage apparel—was happy, but Lyserg still wished he could have done better.
At least he wasn’t alone—another student seemed to be having trouble, too. The only other person who did not despise this class, student council president Jeanne.
“While I am more satisfied with the current curriculum, our former teacher had a very interesting personality. I miss his eccentricities. Wherefore he had to depart, I do not know.”
Lyserg, instead of questioning why this girl, clearly not a day over eleven, was talking straight out of a Shakespeare play, nodded to her in solemn agreement. “I just wish he wasn’t in jail. Yes, his personality was definitely…interesting, but honestly, I didn’t even mind the old curriculum that much. The clothes didn’t look too bad…”
Jeanne looked at Lyserg like he was an eldritch abomination for a moment. “Pardon?”
“Nevermind.”
There was an awkward silence, which Lyserg decided to fill by asking, “Have you even broken someone out of jail before?”
“No, for I am a law-abiding citizen.”
“Have you ever wanted to…?”
“No, for I am a law-abiding citizen.”
“What if it was for a good reason?”
“As I said, I am a law-abiding citizen.”
Jeanne was not getting the message, it seemed. Lyserg almost felt bad asking her for help with his new plan, but he had no other choice.
“What if it was Mr. Lasso?” He tried.
“What facility is he being detained in?”
That was quick.
Never mind, Lyserg did not feel guilty anymore. In fact, he felt great! He had a wonderful idea that would surely make up for all the terrible ones he either had himself or participated in executing. “I don’t know, but it can’t be too far away…”
Lyserg could already see it. They would bake a cake—well, Jeanne would bake it, since culinary was her second elective—and Lyserg would sneak a really, really sharp knife into the cake to help Marco escape jail! Maybe he could cut open the bars or whatever happened in the movies. They would bring it to whoever the hell was at the front desk of wherever Marco was, and who would suspect two adorable kids of trying to break a convicted sex offender out of jail? They just wanted to bring him a cake!
Okay, maybe that made zero sense, but at least it made more sense to Lyserg than pretending to be a guy named Oliver Quandavious Dingle Bottom III. That made negative sense.
Unfortunately, when he shared this plan with Jeanne, she thought it made zero sense, too.
“But all you need to do is bake the cake, come with me to the jail, and I can do the rest,” Lyserg argued.
“Then, well…It might be unwise to refuse such a good opportunity to bake a cake, so I may consider it.”
That was all Lyserg needed to know. From that afternoon until early in the morning, he researched where Marco could be. Eventually, he narrowed it down to one place: Goobaladesh Local Jail!
Jeanne baked a cake. Lyserg planted the central piece to the plan, the necessary escape tool known as a really, really sharp knife. But since Jeanne still wanted to decorate the cake, Lyserg decided he would head out a little early so that Jeanne could meet him at Goobaladesh Local Jail. After only fifteen minutes of waiting, Lyserg found himself constantly glancing at the clock, watching the minutes go by. “She shouldn’t be taking this long…”
But he waited even longer, and eventually, Jeanne showed up…
…without a cake. All that was in her hands was a large plate with a single knife in the center, and nothing more.
“Jeanne, did you…did you bring the cake?”
The expression on her face screamed nothing but guilt. Sheer guilt. “Jeanne…?”
“Well, there was this homeless family, and…”
Oh, no. Oh, dear God no. She did not just feed the cake to a random homeless family in the street, did she? It wasn’t too shocking to hear, coming from the compassionate, peace-loving Student Council President of Funbari High, but it completely ruined their plan!
“Our entire plan, reduced to smithereens…How do you think we’re going to get Mr. Lasso out of jail now?”
Jeanne was silent for a moment. “I do still have the platter for the cake...”
Lyserg raised an eyebrow. “And?“
“What is the possibility we could…” Jeanne swallowed nervously. “…lie, and say the cake is there, it’s just…invisible?”
The logical part of Lyserg’s brain thought this was the stupidest idea he had ever heard in his life—worse than any of his, worse than any of Marco’s. But the desperate, exhausted part spoke for him instead. “Sure!”
The man at the front desk was tall, very tall, and sported a long, exaggerated pompadour that had to be at least a few feet long. Perhaps someone reading this story might know who he is.
“Eh? A cake? But there’s nothing on this platter but a knife! Are you two little kids playing a trick on me?”
This man, hereafter referred to as Ryu, the name stated on his name tag, honestly had no right calling Jeanne and Lyserg little kids considering that he was barely an adult himself, but since he looked at least twenty-five, he could get away with it.
“Well, you see…” Once again, Lyserg’s nonexistent attorney skills kicked in. “The cake is just covered in invisible frosting! It’s supposed to be this, uh, new technology that a lot of people don’t know about.”
Despite sounding like an utter buffoon, Lyserg felt proud of himself, and Jeanne felt their plan had been secured once again, too.
But meanwhile, Ryu had been taken aback by the sound of this boy’s voice, his stance, his adorable face—he couldn’t imagine turning someone so cute away! And the girl with him was very sweet, too! What was he thinking, accusing those kids of trying to trick him? They wouldn’t hurt a fly!
“Right, right! And what’s the inmate’s number?”
“421, I think.”
And soon after, the “cake” was apparently delivered safe and sound. Lyserg had no idea whatsoever how it managed to get through any kind of security check, but somehow it did. Now, all that was left to do was wait, wait, and wait some more!
Meanwhile, Marco was in his jail cell, doing whatever people in jail do, until he received a mysterious package.
Apparently, there was a cake inside, so Marco opened it…but all there was to be found was a single kitchen knife.
“What? Lyserg Diethel and the Student Council president Jeanne banded together to send me a…knife?”
Did they want him to stab himself to death, granting an easy passage out of his now-miserable and soon-to-be-even-more-miserable-when-he-gets-transferred-to-an-even-larger-facility life? What cruel children!
He flung it at the wall in anger, but the wall began to crack, and a tiny hole formed where the tip of the blade came in contact with the cement.
“Wait a minute…”
After stabbing the wall for a long time later, he had formed a sizable hole in the wall. He was careful to avoid the sharp eyes of guards and faculty, and eventually the hole was big enough to let him escape!
Well, not without drawing attention to himself and sounding multiple alarms.
“Damn! Someone noticed me!”
He tried to squeeze the rest of his body out of the hole, but a prison guard grabbed his leg and attempted to pull him back in. “Crap!”
But luckily for Marco, after an intense game of tug-of-war with said prison guard, he was able to yank his leg back out and run into the night. He heard a lot of shouting, announcements, more alarms, and whatever else you hear in an overtly-sensationalized, exaggerated, and inaccurate depiction of a prison break. But no matter what, he didn’t stop running, because this was his only chance to escape!
After an unfortunate cycle of running, hiding, and running some more, he saw light coming from a house.
Maybe, if he was convincing enough, and the owners were kind enough, they would let him seek shelter in their abode. But not in a prisoner’s uniform! So Marco did the most logical thing he could imagine and took the whole thing off, excluding his underwear because even he has a shred of decency. He ran up to the house and rang the doorbell, but the sight that met his eyes when the door opened was like nothing he could have ever imagined!
Whether this made today the luckiest or unluckiest day of his life, he had no idea, but Lyserg Diethel had answered the door! And promptly shut his eyes. “I’m…I’m glad to see you got out, but n-naked?” He cringed.
“Well, I can’t be seen around town looking like a prisoner, can I?”
Within the next fourty-five seconds, Marco was dressed in a towel (thank fucking god) and Lyserg was on the phone with Jeanne, telling her the wonderful news! Marco was now a runaway inmate who, although now forced to live in the shadows, could continue cursing the world with his amazing fashion design skills!
“By the way, Lyserg, where are your parents? Do they just leave you home alone at night to answer the door to half-naked strangers?”
“I told you, my parents are dead.”
“So who takes care of you?”
“Not my parents.”
“Yes, but—never mind.” Marco just shook his head and decided that maybe, he didn’t need to know the answer to that question. Soon, the doorbell rang again, and it was Jeanne…
…with a huge horde of police officers.
“It would be that man in the skimpy towel, officer.” She was pointing directly at Marco. “And the boy who helped him escape.”
“But…President Jeanne!” Lyserg retorted. “I thought you…”
“I’m very sorry, Lyserg Diethel, but I cannot allow myself to shamelessly commit criminal acts. I have to adhere to justice!”
One of the officers started muttering, “Isn’t this the guy who got fired from Funbari High? What crime did he commit again?”
“What crime? Just look at him! The answer’s pretty obvious.”
How unfortunate. Within just a few hours of his escape, Marco was back in the hands of the law, just as helpless as before. Surely, he would have to serve an even longer sentence now. And on top of that, Lyserg was in big trouble, too. Everything had folded in on itself to create an even bigger catastrophe!
“Don’t worry, Lyserg, they won’t send you to jail,” Marco reassured. “They’ll just put you in juvie!”
“Those are the same thing…”
If there was a lesson to be learned from this mess of a story, it was that you should never trust a suspicious man in glasses to design your clothes, a fourteen year-old to be your lawyer, or a law-abiding citizen to help you commit crimes! By now, this lesson was far too obvious to the individuals in this precarious situation, but since fate had determined their paths, the time for regrets had long left them.
No matter what, the only place Marco would be able to continue his wonderful career was in jail.