Uh, hi. I heard that there’s been some fighting already this year. I hate to have to be a stick in the mud or anything, but you guys know you’re not allowed to beat on each other, right? If any of the prefects see you fighting, you’re going to get in trouble, so the easiest thing to do is to not fight in the first place.
I’m glad you’re addressing this, Kowalski. Bullworth is disgusting enough, and we really don’t need to add pauper blood being spilled all over it.
Though I’m happy to engage in fisticuffs, as long as it’s done in the proper setting.
What?! What was that walking argument for birth control doing talking about me?
Well I can show him I’m not very conservative or saintly…if he’ll join me for fisticuffs.
And—It looks awesome! I mean, er…it really looks sharp.
|July 11, 2012|
|July 1, 2012|
“We can just do it tomorrow. Besides, it’s just one more,” Derby grumbled, rummaging through his liquor cabinet once more. “There you are,” he chimed, pulling out the bottle of scotch once more. He carefully prepared two glasses, humming a bit to himself.
Derby passed a full glass to Bif and sighed. “I suppose so. It would save me the trouble of getting my hands dirty. I’m sure Gord would love a reason to swap more saliva with that tramp.”
“I’m a Harrington. Doing me a favor is privilege within itself!…However I suppose if he does a good job, I could even get him an item or two.” He turned to Bif with a smirk. “You know underneath all those muscles, you’re actually quite bright.”
Bif’s cheeks heated up at the compliment. He ducked his head down towards his drink. He took a long sip of the scotch, swallowed and coughed, the acrid liquid stinging his throat.
"You know, some of the wealthy families seem to have become forgetful of that—" he took another sip, "but I think you should definitely trust Gord to do the preliminary work. He’s always going on about interning at his Dad’s law firm, so maybe a little field work would be good for him!"
How can Derby drink this stuff?
Bif shook his head and set his now half empty glass down on a coaster. He outstretched his arms high over his head, his body already relaxing from the drink. “So tomorrow then?”
“You think you’ll recognize the culprit if you see him?”
Derby shook his head. “To be honest, I’ll probably go with my gut feeling. He was tall with dark hair…” All this probably meant that Derby was going to accuse any and all who fit his description. This was no good.
“God forbid if he has friends. Though, vermin like him always do. It’s how poor people thrive.” Tapping his chin, Derby began too rethink his plan. Running in there blind wasn’t good. Bif was a strong enough man but he wouldn’t throw him into a fight with four other men. The possibilities of what could go wrong were beginning to run through his mind.
”Ugh. I need another drink.”
Bif let out a sigh of exasperation before taking a seat back on the chaise lounge, folding his arms. Hadn’t Derby taunted Jimmy last year, some quip about him being richer in all forms of assets, including friends.
And what was that? Another drink?
"We’re not going to be very effective at finding anyone if you can’t make it down the stairs.”
Bif realized too late what he thought was internal dialogue, actually came out of his mouth in a quiet grumble. His eyes shot to the ornate rug by his feet, fixating on the intricate swirling patterns and desperately hoping Derby would ignore his little moment of indignation.
"We could always send Gord to do some sleuthing…he tends to slum it with that Lola when he thinks no one’s keeping tabs on him."
Bif rubbed the back of his neck, still feeling a bit uneasy. Derby only wanted to hear his friend’s opinions some of the time, at least in the time Bif had known him.
"And he probably wouldn’t mind doing you the favor if you let him get an early preview of the winter Aquaberry collection." He continued.
“We’re going to start the investigation in New Coventry? Or Blue Skies?” he asked, scrunching his nose up in disgust.
“I know!” Derby’s voice was raising up. The more he thought about the incident, the more his anger grew. “Mother has already had enough trouble with those vultures hounding her. She shouldn’t have to worry about this too.”
That’s exactly what Derby liked to hear. Compliance. He clapped his hands together and beamed. “Wonderful! I knew I could count on you!” He patted Bif’s shoulders, gently squeezing them.
“We can begin our search in New Coventry. I prefer to have the others with us if we have to go to Blue Skies. Those townies don’t play fair. I would hate to be jumped…” He narrowed his eyes as he trailed off.
Bif nodded in agreement. “Fair enough. New Coventry it is.”
He was about to ask if Derby would be able to keep it together after he’d been partaking in the scotch, but thought better of it. Derby would probably snap at him, or worse, go on the offensive and drink more to prove a point.
It was just too bad Bif took the extra time to shower and freshen up. New Coventry definitely had a smell to it, a cloying mixture of motor oil, exhaust, and rancid chow mein. The same stench stuck to the greaser’s leather jackets.
Bif would just have to put up with another shower. Derby was clearly getting more agitated by the minute.
"You think you’ll recognize the culprit if you see him?"
“Sorry I’m late, Derby, I—Are you drinking again?”
“I called you thirty minutes ago.” He waved his hand,gesturing for Bif to get closer. Derby took another sip and raised a well groomed brow. “Hm? Oh,” he whispered glancing at his half full glass. “It’s just my second glass,” Derby retorted defensively. “The bottle was back in its case ages ago.”
Finishing off his drink, Derby sighed and stood up. “I’ve been wronged, Taylor.” He turned to face his friend with a frown. “Tell me…Do you know what it’s like to wake up and go downstairs to find that someone has thrown a rock through your living room window and broken one of your mother’s favorite, one of a kind vases? She was devastated!” Derby threw his hands up for emphasis and began pacing around the room.
“Now,I got a peek at the assailant. The idiot decided he would linger around the side of the house. Tch, as if no one was going to go outside. I believe it was one of those Townies,or most likely a Greaser. It was hard to say…regardless, the police aren’t working hard enough and my usual group of gentleman I pay have apparently taken a vacation.”
“So that’s were you come in. I need you to come with me to find this man and teach him that you don’t mess with the Harringtons. Especially not my mother. So, will you help me?”
Bif couldn’t help making a face as he watched Derby finish off the last of his scotch, leaving only a few melting ice chips at the bottom of the glass.
So he had been pacing himself this time…or at least with this last drink. Derby seemed coherent enough, anyhow.
Bif leaned against the arm of dark green chaise lounge and listened to the blonde boy rant about his predicament. Bif idly watched Derby pace from one end of the room to the other a few times. It seemed the drinks had done little to placate him.
"Geeze! First Harrington House gets egged, and now vandalism—no, outright property damage at your mansion? I wonder if these happenings are related…and I know your mother certainly doesn’t need the stress.”
He pushed off from the furniture and leaned forward to stretch his arms in front of him, cracking his knuckles.
"Don’t worry, I’ve got your back. He’ll get taken care of, whoever this fool is. I’ll lay him out, you can be sure of that."
"We’re going to start the investigation in New Coventry? Or Blue Skies?" he asked, scrunching his nose up in disgust.
You didn’t want to make a Harrington wait, at least, not if you knew what was good for you.
“Just one more.”
Derby poured his second glass of scotch and sighed as he placed the bottle away with all of his other ridiculously expensive alcohol. As much as he wanted to have a third, school was rearing its ugly, wretched head and he had to be in top form. The risk of letting these ghetto hoodlums see him inebriated was enough incentive for him to stop for the night.
Being a Harrington can be so unfair, Derby thought to himself as he took a long sip. He licked the excess off his lips and glanced down at his watch. Derby wasn’t one to be meticulous about time; he was nothing like his cousin. However tonight was different. Taking a seat in his chair, he let his thoughts console him.
They’re all just jealous of me. That’s why they pulled a stunt like that.
He drummed on the arm of his chair and sighed. This was getting rather pathetic.
Derby stole another glance at his watch. “Bif…you have ten minutes before I send Chad’s dog looking for you,” he spoke aloud to no one.
Bif only slowed his pace when he reached the courtyard in front of the building known as Harrington House, where only the richest students at Bullworth resided. He leaned against a brick pillar for a moment to catch his breath. He made a promise to himself that he needed to run more often. It would only be to a boxer’s benefit to be quick on his feet.
He pulled open one of the heavy double doors and wandered into the lobby. He retrieved his gym bag that had been delivered ahead of him from a plush velvet bench. Hoisting the strap over his shoulder, he began to climb the long staircase. When he reached Derby’s door, he stopped to consider a moment.
If Derby had waited this long, surely he wouldn’t mind if Bif freshened up a bit, right? The Harrington boy probably wouldn’t care to speak with him for too long if he went in panting like some sort of animal and dripping with sweat.
That decided, Bif marched further down the hall to his own room and abandoned his bag and gym clothes on the mahogany floor.
Freshly showered and revitalized, Bif snatched a crisp white Aquaberry shirt from his walk-in closet and swiftly buttoned it up to his chin. A few tucks and adjustments and he was right back in front of Derby’s door. He reached out to rap a familiar pattern, then turned the brass handle.
"Sorry I’m late, Derby, I—Are you drinking again?"