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Everybody has an arch-nemesis.
Batman has the Joker, Sonic has Dr. Eggman, the French people have the English people and Wilbur has Quackity.
Wilbur knew exactly when and where this game of schoolyard insults and hypocrisy began.
It was the first day of seventh grade and young Wilbur had just transferred to L‘manberg middle school with a bag full of crayons and dreams of better classmates.
He walked through the piss yellow halls with his papers clutched in his hands.
His hair had stuck to his forehead ever since he`d left the door this morning. But summer would soon end and so would the time he had left for finding the principal's office.
The smell of sweat and cheap deodorant suffocated the yet-to-have-his-growth-spurt Wilbur, squeezing himself through the masses of taller children.
He just needed to find the office, there was no way it could be that hard-
Something or rather someone crashed into him at full speed.
He fell backwards, his back collided with some girl behind him who screeched and pushed him away.
thump
The crowd seemed to have noticed and walked around him as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
For Wilbur it was.
He noticed the familiar anger bubbling up in the back of his throat, he reached for the papers on the ground only to be stopped by a loud clearing of lungs.
Wilbur looked up and saw just who had carelessly knocked him to the ground. A boy, around his age with a navy blue beanie and a few stray, black strands of hair on his face. Ember colored eyes full of disdain.
Also, he was somehow even shorter than him.
“What the hell? Pay more attention to where you’re going.”
The boy said, amusement coloring his words.
Wilbur could practically feel the crack in his glasses, grabbing his stuff off the ground he pushed himself up and came face to face with the fucker in front of him.
Wilbur`s glasses threatened to slide down his nose and the anger he had felt just exploded.
“You should pay more attention, wanker!”
The other guy´s eyes widened and for a second, he looked… confused.
But that look turned into a sneer so fast that Wilbur could not stop his own face from faltering for a moment.
The wanker crossed his arms in front of his blue shirt, “It's not my fault that you're blind asshole.”
That was a definite insult to his glasses! It must´ve been, judging by his smug stance.
That was a declaration of war for twelve year old Wilbur. He pushed his glasses up,
“Well it's not my fault that you're short.”
Wanker trade mark lunged at him and the crowd held in to watch their battle of mostly pushing around. Maybe a few punches here and there that hit absolutely nothing.
However, Wilbur did manage to drag off his beanie at least partially.
It didn't take long for a teacher to arrive and drag them into the principal’s office. They both got a week long detention which his Dad hadn't exactly liked but it wasn't his fault.
During detention was also when he discovered that the wanker´s name was Quackity.
The name of his future arch-nemesis was finally revealed to him and the game was on.
He hadn't hoped for this kind of confrontation on his first day.
At least he now knew where the principal’s office was.
And now, as a sophomore, he was on a mission. He was going to become his grade´s representative in the student council. An election with three participants. Two of which were his humble self and Quackity. Only one person of each grade could be elected and then become part of the council. That way he could present his own ideas for their school life, of course he also had to be his grade´s contact partner but that was manageable.
He also had an insane growth spurt.
The sun was as hot as always and Wilbur strode through the crowd of children with ease. He walked through the cafeteria´s door and was greeted by the smell of today´s lunch.
Burgers as he could see and he could feel his stomach churning at the sight of the fat practically dripping from the meat.
Another point he could bring up during his speech. He decided that a soda would suffice.
“Wil, we are over here!”
His head snapped to his left as he could see a figure with blonde and pink streaked hair waving him over.
A smile spread over his face as he approached the table in the left corner of the cafeteria.
“I see some new colors, Niki.” Wilbur said.
The girl in question nodded enthusiastically.
“I thought something different than the brown streaks would be fitting for the season, ''
she clarified.
Wilbur sat down and made a noise of agreement.
Someone coughed, “Uh yeah hello Wilbur.”
He looked over to see another boy his age with extremely short brown hair and a black and blue striped hoodie.
Ah, of course.
Jack Manifold, the other man in the race. Who just so happened to be a friend of his.
“Jack my man, since when were you here?”
He frowned “Since you arrived.”
Wilbur nodded “Okay.”
He turned his head back to Niki,
“By the way, where is Shubble?”
Niki shrugged and glanced over to the door.
“She did say she felt sick after returning from our trip.”
He popped the soda can open, “Oh the trip to the coast?” Niki nodded.
“You said you were busy, you didn't tell me you were going on a trip.” Jack muttered confused. Niki´s brows furrowed “I thought you asked Jack if he wanted to come with us?”
Shit. Did I not?
Wilbur stared blankly, “I think I forgot.” He turned to Jack who seemed a bit more confused.
“Sorry mate, won't happen again.”
He didn't wait for a response. There were more important matters to discuss either way.
How he was going to one up Quackity as an example.
“I was thinking,” Wilbur gestured towards the right side of the cafeteria which was next to the new assembly hall, “when I give my speech, I will suggest a way to request what kind of meals we get in the cafeteria.“
Niki poked the burger in front of her “I´m all for less of whatever that is.”
“It´ll be great, in one week I can finally begin my work and Quackity will be too shocked by my win to even show up again.”
He and Quackity competed in everything.
From grades to popularity to even filling positions for whatever the school decided they wanted to exploit their students for this time.
They were both class presidents every single year. They both had an A in english and they both had helped with last year's charity burger event.
They were on equal grounds and both knew they needed something to set each other apart.
They had tried winning last year too but an individual by the name of Eret had beat them both by a landslide.
Eret was great and unable to run again this year due to personal reasons, Wilbur should check in with them again.
So this year was their chance. After three years they would finally find out, with no one else there to distract them, who was simply better than the other.
“I think we should focus on renovating the art room.”
Jack said. He bit into his burger and quickly regretted his decision.
“What do you mean by that?” Wilbur asked.
Alright, it had not exactly been made a secret of what happened to the art room.
It was unusable since the fire that broke out at the end of the last school year.
The school's only room with pottery, oil painting and woodwork equipment had been tragically damaged in the fire.
No one knew what happened. The crime must have been committed after school, since no one had been around, other than the janitor who had discovered the fire a bit too late.
Ever since then, their art teachers guided them in the arts of normal watercolor painting and sketching again.
Niki, Shubble,Eret and hell, even Tubbo had been sad about that.
Well, that was more because he wasn't able to try to kill Tommy with their wood carving knives anymore. Apparently, their middle school building was the only room the whole school even had for that kind of entertainment.
Sad thing indeed.
“It's just that Niki and I miss the cool stuff we could do there. A lot of students do in fact.”
Jack said begrudgingly.
Wilbur had almost spat the soda across the room before remembering his mission, leading him to swallowing it and somehow inhaling it.
He choked for an adequate ten seconds before regaining his composure.
Last time this happened, Niki had to beat the shit out of him as he was seconds away from choking to death. Fun memories.
“How do you know that people think that?”
Wilbur asked, in barely more than a whisper.
Jack shot his burger a suspicious look before refocusing on the other.
“I just asked all the people who chose art as their subject.”
Impossible, that was a thing you could do?
“Yes obviously, how else would you know what the people want?”
Maybe he had said that part out loud.
It didn't matter, what mattered was finding out what Jack`s intentions were.
Wilbur decided he would use that strategy against him now.
He slammed a hand on the table causing the chatter around them to stop.
Embarrassment creeped up his neck as his fellow students stared at him
It took about five seconds before they returned to their own life’s.
Wilbur did the same, this time a bit quieter.
He slowly put his hand down on the table.
“Does that mean you seriously want to win this election?” he asked in a friendly tone.
His possible enemy looked confused.
It might be a facade Wilbur told himself.
“I mean yes, why else would I be running?” he said.
Betrayal.
He knew this was gonna happen sooner or later. He didn't expect it to be one of his advisors though. There was no way he could've seen that coming. Sure, he was in the race but that didn´t mean that he wanted to actually compete with him.
Unbelievable.
Wilbur sighed, “I truly am sorry Niki but we won't be able to discuss my plans any longer.
After all, how could I be assured that you wouldn't tell Jack. You seem to have common goals.”
Niki, who had been folding a crane out of her burger´s wrapping paper for five minutes, looked up at him “Can you guys not compromise?”
Wilbur took his empty can “I´m sorry but there is no room for compromise with a traitor.”
He set his glasses straight.
“Goodbye Niki, goodbye traitor.“
As Wilbur strode back towards the exist he might´ve heard a distraught `what the fuck` from Niki as he left, but maybe that was just his imagination.
Wilbur headed down the hallway with purpose.
He had to submit the written down version of his speech to Mrs. Puffy his homeroom teacher, before the end of the day.
But he still felt uncertain about it.
He couldn't conspire with Niki anymore, that was sure.
It didn‘t matter, after next week, they could all go back to normal. Perhaps Wilbur could invite them all out for some pizza?
The bell rang, it was time for math.
Wilbur watched people sprint for their classes, as he himself lazily came to a halt in front of their election posters.
All the candidates' names were written in bold, red letters beneath their pictures.
Himself in the middle with his most charming smile. Quackity‘s poster to his left with a teeth-showing smile and Jack to his right, with wide eyes and comically large grin.
Soon we‘ll know who the blind one is.
He turned around to find the halls empty.
Oh, he was so fucking late.
“I finished my speech Mrs. Puffy.“
Wilbur said.
He had seen her walk past his classroom by chance and had excused himself to hand over his paper.
The tall woman with curly white hair was known throughout the whole school.
She was almost always the teacher who organized the student council, and anything other that students needed guidance with.
She was one of the few teachers who actually liked their jobs.
And no one even knew her last name; everyone, teachers and students called her, her first name.
Of course Wilbur knew who she was.
She had been his art teacher for the past two years too.
She always made time for her students.
Today however, things were all just a tad bit off.
“I‘m sorry Wilbur, I have a meeting now so I can‘t take a look at the moment.“
She smiled apologetically.
Wilbur shrugged, “You don’t have to right now, I just wanted to turn it in since you said today was the deadline.“
“Could you put it on my desk in my classroom in sixth grade? I think otherwise I‘d end up losing it.“
That would suck Wilbur decided, so after being excused by his math teacher, he set upon the journey to middle school.
Both school buildings looked largely the same with their pasty brown brick walls.
The only difference was the size, middle school being smaller in comparison to their high school.
Wilbur stepped through the white arched entrance
and was immediately greeted by familiar yellow walls. He wondered how long they would stick with the piss.
Maybe he needed to address that too during a meeting.
Slipping past the various classrooms, he ended up at the very end of the second floor hallways.
The last room would be the right one.
He‘ll put his stuff down and leave.
Then the real battle can finally begin.
However, the door of the classroom was already open a tiny bit.
Shit, what if there‘s a class in there. That would be so cringe.
But alas, what could he do?
Wilbur tiptoed towards the door. Gently he put a hand on the old wood, pulling it father ajary.
There was a figure standing in the room.
“Jack, what are you doing?”
They both froze.
The sun cast gentle rays into the office and gave it a sense of tranquility.
If only Wilbur hadn't seen one of his friends fumble through what seemed to be Mrs. Puffy's paperwork.
He stepped inside,
“Answer me, what is this?”
Jack finally moved to face him. His expression was blank. He stood right beside the printer and he placed, whatever it was in his hands, down on top of it.
“I‘m doing what I need to do“
Jack muttered, looking at the ground.
Usually, Wilbur would have laughed.
Who wouldn‘t? Jack Manifold, violating the school‘s rules, that‘s a comedy in itself.
But the look on Jack‘s face told a different genre.
Wilbur shifted from one foot to the other,
“And… what is that?“
He thought distantly, that those papers didn‘t quite look like normal paperwork.
“Quackity was the one who caused the art room fire.“
Wilbur could feel his jaw hitting the ground on a metaphorical level.
Jack continued “His file says he used one of the candles to set fire.“
Somewhere in the corners of his mind, Wilbur could remember the neat rows of various, self made, wax candles placed on the windowsills.
“I don‘t really like Quackity either but why would he do that?“
Wilbur asked quietly.
Sure, the two of them were fighting all the time but Wilbur liked to believe that even Quackity had standards.
What good would it bring him to destroy school property?
Even more importantly why would he not get kicked out of the school?
He scanned his surroundings, looking over all the cheap wooden tables and chairs scattered all around.
He also saw a red locker in the back corner and a much more comfortable chair, solely for the teacher.
It looked like most rooms did except for the printer and different lockers.
Jack scoffed, “I don‘t know, maybe he just enjoys hurting people.“
Wilbur‘s throat ran dry, “That‘s a bit far.“
He watched Jack in silence.
His lips were pressed in a thin line and he continued to fumble with the printer's interface.
He gave it a whack to the side as it refused to accept his orders. He muttered a string of curses.
Wilbur took a step forward, “What are you doing with this information Jack?“
The other stopped messing with the printer and instead picked up a flier next to him, “I will copy these and scatter them all across the school.“
He waved the flier around with a smile.
“Now he will never win the election. And that leaves who?“ he asked and did not wait for an answer, “me of course.“
Jack made a noise of triumph as the printer suddenly began, well, printing.
“I already made a couple at home but then the printer caught on fire,“ Jack said simply. He held the flier from just now towards him, “Wanna take a look?“
Wilbur staggered, there is no way this is real.
So he laughed.
A terribly high laugh. He struggled to breath as he could see Jack‘s triumphal expression falter.
“There is no way-“ he wheezed again, “you think you can win?.“ He almost toppled over.
Wilbur clutched his stomach as oxygen became scarce. No wonder though, this was unbelievable, hilarious even.
He needed to calm down if he wanted to live, so he started breathing in and out.
One deep breath later and he was staring at Jack.
Who had never looked so down right pissed<\i>.
It wiped the smile off his face.
“You think this is funny?“ Jack asked, jaw clenched and voice unusually low.
Wilbur would have burst out laughing again if the shift in tone didn‘t feel so damn uncomfortable.
“I do, sorry, but why would you win?“ Wilbur asked, still smug despite everything.
“I have always been a bit of a people person,“
He leaned against one of the students tables closer to Jack, “But you always kept to yourself. People don't know who you are, Jack.“
“Well, you don‘t don‘t know me either. At least that‘s what it looks like.“
Wilbur‘s blood ran cold.
He searched for Jack‘s eyes and was met with something cold and hard.
But hurt always shimmered through the cracks.
Would it make a difference if he denied it? Told him that he did know him? Should he apologize immediately?
It was too late for any insincere apology.
Jack turned away, “It doesn‘t matter, you won‘t win anyway.“
Wilbur couldn‘t stop himself, “But kicking Quackity out of the race, with a gross tactic, will disqualify you and leave me as the only eligible winner.“
It was Jack's turn to laugh, although it was more of a yell. “No Wilbur, you‘re misunderstanding this.“
They faced each other again and Jack was in glee<\i>,
“You won’t win either.“
His gaze flickered over to the printer and it was then he noticed the dozens and dozens of flyers that were now stacking on top of eachother.
Jack picked one up again and held it over to him.
“Go on, take it.“
So Wilbur did.
The flier was a printed out picture with a clear bottom line. The picture was a digital version of what looked like the schools logo, a teacher‘s signature and-
The entry of the fire.
Quackity Karma Nevadas has admitted to causing the fire in room 205B inside L‘manberg‘s middle school building.
Quackity used one of the student‘s candles stored in 205B to light the fire.<\i>
Wilbur winced and ignored the rest in favor of skimming down to the bottom of the flier.
Underneath the line stood something that made his heart stop.
- Glowing regards, Wilbur Soot.<\i>
He didn’t notice how close Jack had gotten to him.
“I am writing your name onto all of these, after all who else would do something like this.“
He felt betrayed and this time it was real.
A loud crash could be heard from the Corner of the room. What the fuck?<\i>
If anyone had asked Wilbur about what he thought was in there, he would’ve probably said something like “Someone’s gym clothes, a broken coffee machine or paperwork<\i>”
Not an actual person<\i>.
A light brown haired boy, maybe around fourteen, stumbled out of the locker.
He came to a halt and breathed shakily.
“He‘s not who you think he is!“
"Me or him?"
Wilbur asked, waiting as the boy pushed his rectangular glasses up his nose.
The boy looked around the room. His brows furrowed “Uh, not either of you. I mean Quackity.“
Did he hear all of this?<\i>
“Who the fuck even are you?“
Jack asked bewildered, he’d probably be pulling his hair if it was long enough for him to do that.
The boy in question looked over to Jack, he gulped and slowly stepped forward.
“I am Slimecicle but Slime is fine too.“
Great,<\i> Wilbur wanted to say what does that tell us?<\i>
“I am one grade below you guys and a friend of Quackity.“
Oh shit, maybe Wilbur had said that out loud again.
Wilbur glanced between the two,
“Alright… but why the fuck<\i> were you in there<\i>“
he pointed at the closet “and what do you mean by he‘s not who you think he is?“
Slime grimaced “Well this guy over here,“ he pointed over at Jack ”is lying.“
That didn‘t answer why he was in there but alright.
The room was dead silent, Wilbur could see the branches of trees outside sway gently in the wind.
And then Jack grabbed<\i> Slime.
Wilbur yelled out for him but it was too late.
He grabbed Slime‘s shirt collar and pushed him into the wall behind him.
“You come in here, get involved in someone else‘s business and call me a liar.“
Slime didn’t even struggle.
He stared Jack dead in the eyes, “Technically, you came in here second and also you are trying to hurt my friend Quackity.“
Jack‘s grip grew slack and Wilbur closed the distance between them and him ever so slightly.
Slime‘s green eyes were full of determination,
“So yeah this is my business.“
So much loyalty to a friend.
That‘s quite admirable. I'll give him that.
Wilbur slowly gripped Jack‘s arm that he used to hold Slime. Jack's eyes slithered towards him, “Let him go mate, don‘t do something dumb here.“
It worked, surprisingly. Jack scoffed and stepped back.
The other boy mumbled something like “Thank fuck“ and also “I would‘ve won that fight“
But maybe it was the wind.
Wilbur tore his gaze to Jack who seemed calmer than before. The bald haired man shook his head “So, tell me why I and the school administration are wrong.“
Slime snorted, “I was going to talk about that before you became all physical.“ He turned to Wilbur, “I know that you don‘t like Quackity. He told me about it.“
Wilbur gulped Well, yes I don‘t like him. He‘s a prick.
“But I hope you know that no one deserves to get fucked over with that lie.“ Slime said.
Wilbur nodded “Well whatever the truth is and considering he isn‘t here, I‘m playing fair.“
Slime looked back to Jack who had sat down on a chair across the room.
“Okay,“ Slime‘s shoulders slumped, “where do I
begin…“
The gray walls in the halls of the art room were decorated with paintings and little handicrafts. Slime practically bounced down the hallway going through a mental list for the day.<\i>
“I needed to take my painting home, it wasn‘t done yet and I still needed to color the creature.“
The sun shone low in these after school hours.<\i>
Wilbur folded his arms “Wait a minute,“ Slime threw him a glare “What do you mean with the creature?“
“It‘s religious, it’s- you wouldn‘t get it.“ he muttered.
Wilbur huffed “You didn‘t even try to explain-“
“If you interrupt me again I will take out one of your bones.“ Slime said.
Slime slid into the art room. This wouldn‘t take long, after he had his painting, he could go ask Ted if he wanted to eat-<\i>
“Ah the teacher‘s pet, what a surprise.”<\i>
Slime turned around, “I identify as homo sapiens.”<\i>
The boy who spoke to him was tall, blonde haired and a lot more muscular than Slime was back then.
Present day Slime, of course, was nowhere near as weak as in the past.<\i>
The strong boy had brought two other boys, more scrawny and would best be described as Henchman 1 and Henchman 2 if anything.<\i>
“Okay, just one question, but did you just say you‘re buff now?“
Jack asked, visibly confused.
Slime pointed at Jack with one of his bony arms,
“I am hitting the gym now you asshole and stop fucking interupting my story telling!“
His voice seemed to rise higher and higher the more agitated he got.
Henchman 2 was bouncing a tennis ball up and down while staring daggers at Slime.
He did that while using his other hand to rearrange his brown long hair.<\i>
Tap, tap, tap, tap<\i>.
The strong boy grinned like the monster straight out of IT.<\i>
”I don‘t care” he said happily and Henchman 1 giggled like that was the funniest shit he’d ever heard. It probably was.
Slime rolled his eyes, he tried walking towards the easel near the window, but the muscle boy got between them.<\i>
“Look man, I‘m not looking for trouble.“ Slime muttered, trying to reach past him.
“I just need my shit and then I‘ll leave okay?”<\i>
The strong boy gripped his arm, eyes wide and veins pronounced. “I don‘t think you understand me slimey boot licker.”<\i>
Slime froze.<\i>
“You‘re not supposed to leave.”<\i>
As if that was some kind of cue they agreed on beforehand, Henchman 1 and 2 slithered towards him.<\i>
“C‘mon guys I know you‘re mad but that‘s really not necessary right?”<\i>
Strong boy‘s look grew stern, “I told you to do my math homework and you. fucked. it. up.”<\i>
Tap, tap, tap, tap<\i>.
He took a step closer to him and Slime moved to the side, hitting the windowsill.
One of the candles wobbled dangerously with the impact.<\i>
“I mean,“ the strong boy began, voice low, “algebra is dumb but even I know that 1a + 2b doesn‘t equal 5ab.”<\i>
“Then why didn‘t you do it?!”<\i>
Slime yelled confused.<\i>
The bully just shrugged,
“I don‘t know, but that‘s not important right now.”<\i>
It was a standoff. Three versus one, the fairest standoff of all standoffs.
“It totally screwed up my grades, so it‘s only fair if we do the same to you.“
He said and a cold shiver ran down Slime‘s spine.<\i>
“You wouldn’t dare touch…“
The last words went unsaid but they both knew what he meant when the bullies' cocky smiles turned into large grins.
“No I won‘t,“ the strong boy said. “But you will.”
Tap, tap, tap, tap.
This must‘ve been the second cue, as Henchman 1 grabbed one of the candles and held it towards Henchman 2, who in return, pulled a lighter from his pocket.
“If you do this, It‘s-“ Slime struggled for words, “blasphemous!”
The strong boy cocked an eyebrow, “Yeah? That’s why we‘re making you do it.“
He scratched his chin, “Not that I know or care about your religion, but I don‘t wanna be offensive.”
Henchman 2 held his tennis ball still in his one hand and lit the red, dirty plastic lighter with his other one.
The candle lit up with a small but deadly flame.
Its orange glow fit the sunshine in the room they were in.
Henchman 1 grinned and turned around. Despite the red hair that fell in his face, you could see the absolute I‘m-an-asshole-that-will-ruin-your-life expression.
He made a slow step towards the easel.
“Don‘t do it, please!”
Slime pleaded. He no longer cared for his pride, only for his painting and grade in art.
After all, it could decide whether or not he could join the video games club!
His parents were very clear about that, since he disturbed his last art teacher, that he’d have to do great in his new class.
Henchman 1 took a bigger step and the strong boy nodded encouragingly.
Slime could feel the panic rise! He needed a hero!
Wilbur thought that the memory must be quite horrible for him to recall, as Slime clutched his chest and screamed dramatically.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Now he stopped fake dieing in favor of intimidatingly staring at nothing.
He flipped right back as he acted out his next lines.
Slime couldn‘t believe his ears or eyes!
There in the door standing, was a man with a glare that could shatter bones, burn down your house and possibly steal your wife! Or husband. You never know.
His hair was hidden underneath a navy blue beanie. However, some strands of his hair stuck out and framed his face. He wore a white dress shirt, black jeans and dress shoes and a red tie.
Apparently, because he just finished band rehearsals.
“And before you ask,“ Slime interrupted himself, “he played the piano.“
That was actually a question Wilbur wanted to take the risk of losing bones for.
He was a danger, not for Slime though.
“And who wants to know that?”
The strong boy asked dangerously, but his hero didn’t get scared by someone like him.
“I‘m Quackity, you didn‘t answer my question Jared.”
He walked inside. Practically levitating inside because of his sheer confidence.
All the bullies grimaced and Henchman 1’s hand hovered uncertainly in the air.
Also, the strong boy‘s name was Jared?<\i>
“I fucking knew it!“ Wilbur threw his hands in the air, “Jared is such a piece of shit.”
Jack nodded soberly “I agree“
The bully now revealed as Jared seemed taken off guard, “How do you know my name?”
Quackity snickered “Everybody knows you, ever since you tried to get back with Sally with that horrible, ass song.“
It‘s true, everybody in the whole school knew about that terribly off-key guitar song.
It was about him missing her face and slowly turning into him accusing her of being a bad person, for not going back to him sooner. As if she ever would‘ve after that song.
His ears turned red with rage, he walked straight in front of Quackity who met him with a determined gaze!
Hah! That rymed!
Henchman 2 dropped his ball and started speaking, “Jared, we shouldn‘t stay-“ but he seethed through his teeth “Shut up!”
Jared completely ignored his original plans, meanwhile Henchman 1 put the candle down, back inside its holder.
“You get inside here, meddle in someone else‘s business and have the gall to insult me.”
He stood right in front of Quackity, foreheads almost touching “And you think, you can get away with this”
But Q never backed down, he smiled all innocently as he said “I do. By the way, you’re short.”
Slime didn‘t even have time to blink as it happened so fast!
Jared tried to punch Quackity but he dodged him while backing away. He stumbled into Henchman 2 who fell over a table.
Jared swung at him again but he dodged him again causing him to trip over Henchman 2‘s ball!
He crashed into the windowsill and the lit candle fell down and touched the easel. Slime jumped in at the right time, to rip his painting away from the flames.
Henchman 1, who was currently helping up Henchman 2, straight up both ran for it.
Jared lingered for a couple seconds longer before his eyes flickered to Quackity and then Slime.
His face was wrecked with anger as he trembled and shouted “You‘ll regret this!”
He ran away too.
Quackity almost slumped together in relief and a smile formed on his face.
“Thank you so much-“ Slime started to thank his hero, however he was interrupted by the tell-tale gruff voice of the Janitor who must‘ve been just down the hall.
“Save it for later? Or never-“ Quackity looked towards the door, “We gotta get out of here, they‘ll think it was us.”
And so Slime and Quackity climbed out of the ground floor windows. They ran as far as possible and watched from afar as the firefighters arrived.
The bullies told on them, like idiots.
They were seen by Quackity’s band teacher as they ran away. They pretended that it had been their fault and that the three of them were innocent.
That didn‘t work out though, as their stories of what happened, changed constantly and led to Henchman 2 denying that he‘d ever been there.
Amongst the ashes of the destroyed art projects however, they found his tennis ball.
They knew it was his because he had wanted it back from the firefighters who had found it.
So eventually, after Quackity already got a report in his school files, their statements were retracted and they admitted guilt.
It was the end of their school time in this place and the beginning of a brand new friendship for Quackity and Slime.
The latter, who got an A- for his art project, was finally allowed to join the video gaming club.
“The end.”
Slime said happily and did a little bow.
The silence stretched on for eternity.
“Now I just think you‘re weird.“
Jack said.
Agreed
He stood up, “But Quackity sounds like a good friend.“
It was a lot to take in. It didn‘t help that Slime was now throwing them this expectant look.
What was the moral of the story? Except for the obvious, Quackity wasn’t at fault. Which also meant these papers were likely the old ones.
“You both don‘t get it?“
Slime asked as if they were stupid.
Jack grabbed one of his fliers and looked it over, “No I do, Quackity is innocent, he‘s a good guy and all that.“
Slime raised an eyebrow.
Jack continued, “But doesn’t that make these fliers even worse? Wilbur spreads lies about his fellow contender?“
Wilbur‘s heart stopped.
Slime grimaced, “I think the lesson is that friends fight for each other, not against each other.“
Slime was so right and it‘s infuriating.
How could I not have noticed?
He jumped up before he could stop himself,
“Oh put a sock in it, Jack Manifold!“
Wilbur clenched his fists, “I‘m sorry that I always ignored you and only fought against what you wanted.“
He closed his eyes because this was honestly embarrassing.
“And I‘m sorry that I make you feel like you‘re not worth knowing, even though you were my second friend at this school.“
Wilbur could feel the heat in his face, “You are-“
he opened his eyes and met Jack‘s own.
“You’re a great friend. You put others first in a way I never could. I‘m sorry for everything but please, don‘t pull Quackity into this.“
The silence was audible and it was only now he realized the shocked expression of Jack before him.
Eyes so clearly hurt yet shining with something new he couldn’t identify.
Slime looked back and forth between the two, face just as unreadable.
Maybe it was so hard for Wilbur to read them because of how his hands shaked now, how quick his heart beated but he ignored it in anticipation of a response. A response he didn‘t deserve.
Jack turned the flier around in his hand again.
“You know, maybe we don‘t need the art room back, it being burnt down got something quite heroic and philosophic to it.“
Pardon me?
Jack sat on top of a desk, looking at the flier thoughtfully, “Well, my job here is done. Might as well drop out then.“
His jaw might actually fall all the way down to hell now, metaphorically of course.
“You‘ll stop just like that?“ Wilbur spluttered.
His friend only smiled gently, “I‘m sorry Wilbur, what I did was shit too. I will fix it.“
And just like that, Jack took his stack of fliers and ripped them in half.
He handed them to Wilbur, “I think you might wanna get rid of these yourself, for clarity and all that jazz.“
And then he left.
Slime laughed, “Maybe the real art room is the friends we made along the way“
School was over for the day.
Wilbur asked about everyone he could find about Quackity‘s whereabouts.
It led him out here, to the stairs down to the student garden.
One deep inhale, holding and one deep exhale.
On top of the stone staircase was him.
Same old beanie and all.
And Wilbur did what he needed to do.
“Quackity I need to tell you something.“
Wilbur began.
He joined him on the stairs and turned towards him despite the low buzzing of his nerves.
“Yesterday I-“
“I already know, Jack told me.“
Quackity said as if he had commented on the weather.
What?
“Then you know how I fucked things up.“
Wilbur mutterted.
He admitted defeat in front of his biggest rival.
He touched a pebble on the stairs with his foot.
Quackity crossed his arms, “You‘re not to blame for Jack‘s shit idea.“
He sat down next to him.
Wilbur‘s eyes darted to him, “I could have talked to him, told him that he was still my friend.“
He kicked the pebble away from him, “But I didn‘t, I chose this stupid competition over my friend.“
His rival seemed to consider his words carefully now. Distinctly, Wilbur wondered when they ever began to talk like this. It was so casual and not as if they both tried to upset the other constantly.
A soft tone of voice pulled him from his thoughts.
“You both messed up. And yes, I do think that what you did was a bit shitty.“
The words scratched Wilbur‘s heart, or pride, but when did he start caring about what Quackity thought anyway?
“But you‘ve owned up to your mistake and are willing to change. Also, you stepped in for me despite the fact that you hate me.“
Quackity‘s voice lowered, “I‘m much more pissed at this false report still existing, trust me.“
Their eyes locked and instead of looking mad or judgemental, Quackity just looked calm.
Wilbur wanted to schoff and throw some witty remark at his soft behavior, but he paused.
Why did he hate Quackity?
“Slime told me that, you know I hate you.“
He said slowly.
Quackity’s face changed into something between confusion and amusement.
Weirdly enough, it reminded Wilbur of his expression the day they first met.
“You do say that,“ he said with a chuckle, “I used to believe that. But recently, It felt like an exaggeration.“
Wilbur tried to be as smooth as possible when he said, “Yeah, maybe I don‘t hate you.“
It did not go by smoothly.
Because Quackity just laughed. It was a bright and loud laugh.
“Sorry- It‘s just so funny, we really held that shit up for years man!“
It made Wilbur laugh too.
Two arch-nemesis sitting on a staircase laughing.
Between tears Wilbur caught his breath, “Wait,“
Quackity looked back at him, “does that mean you don‘t hate me?“
And then he fell down the stairs.
Quackity grabbed Wilbur‘s arm in an attempt to steady himself which ended up in dragging him down too. They crashed down the remaining five stairs and Wilbur landed on his side.
As he looked at Quackity, who landed on his side as well, he wondered why his rival looked so blurry.
Oh wow, where were his glasses?
He groaned in pain as his hands searched the ground for his glasses.
Instead he found something soft and blue.
“Did you lose your beanie?“
“Did you lose your glasses?“
He turned around and found Quackity sitting up and looking at him with his glasses in hand.
“I suppose,“
Wilbur said and they exchanged their findings.
He traced his fingers along his glasses, sighing in relief at the lack of cracks and bents.
He got a glimpse of Quackity in better sight as he pulled his black, long hair back under the beanie.
The boy in question gave him a strange look for a second, as he put his glasses back on.
Wilbur chose to ignore it and instead, let himself flop back on his back. His rival did the same.
They spent the next few minutes in silence.
The school garden didn‘t look too bad, he mused.
The small grass patch they laid on, led to a stone path, with flowers planted on both sides.
They were all the same actually.
An ocean of black-eyed Susans.
“Jack said, in the beginning he didn‘t want to do it for real. But then, somewhere in between, he started to consider it. He shut it down thankfully.“
Wilbur turned his head to Quackity who looked up at the sky.
“He already made his decision to drop out but If you drop out, who am I gonna go up against?“
Now they were both looking at each other and Quackity seemed… hopeful.
The breeze brushed through his hair.
Thank you for the second chance.
“I always felt a bit bad about how I reacted on my first day of school.“
Wilbur said instead which earned him a chuckle from Quackity.
“I wasn‘t completely guilt free either, I didn‘t want to come off as rude but I also should have reacted better.”
They both sat in silence again for a while.
But Wilbur knew he had agreed to go out with Niki and Jack. Just the three of them.
So this moment had to end.
“Well,“ he brushed the dirt off his shirt as he stood back up, “May the best win Mr. Nevadas?“
He stretched his hand out for Quackity whose shocked face turned into a wide, toothy smile.
He took his hand,
“May the best win Mr. Soot!“
Later down the line, they could hopefully all laugh about this stupid and kind of dangerous stunt.
From that moment on, they were no longer arch-nemesis. But they could be something else.
They could be friends.