Chapter 9

It will come as no surprise to most of the readers that this is not only fiction but bald faced lies. The author has been known to stretch the truth past breaking. He is fully aware that Monster Millions is his own creation and does not exist in reality. He is also cognizant of the fact that this an alternate reality. The names might be real ... the people are not. If your name is in here ... it’s not you ... any of you.

I didn’t gussy this Monday morning. I dressed in the manner expected of a 198 IQ and 4.5 grade point average. Tan slacks, white buttondown collared shirt with a cute little tan bowtie. I had my hair off my face and my slide-rule and pens in my Los Alamos Labs pocket-protector.

Oh sure ... I had a Texas Instruments Calculator ... and you DO have to be a genius to use one properly. The slide-rule took real brains ... I was quick and accurate with mine.

On me the Nerd outfit was sexy as all get out. I stood on the steps.

I was waiting for Roger’s bus. It pulled up out front and unloaded.

Roger Blankenship stepped off. He was wearing tan slacks, white collared shirt with a tan bowtie. The Los Alamos Labs pocket-protector was filled with slide-rule and pens. On him it was Nerd personified. He approached the school apprehensively. He shuffled and kept his head down. No eye contact that could be construed as combative.

“Mr Blankenship. I need to speak to you.”

He startled. Gave that shrug that means, ‘What have I done now.’ He looked up. There was no recognition. “Yes Miss?”

“Follow me.” No please, no thank you. I simply walked to the auditorium doors and entered.

He shuffled in.

Daddy always said, ‘Start in the manner you need to get your expected finish.’

“Mr Blankenship. You are aware that there is a homecoming dance after the football game.”

He nodded.

“I require an escort for that game and dance. I have had no contact with persons of the opposite gender. Do you ask me or do I ask you? What is the protocol for such a rendezvous?”

He blinked.

“Who are you?”

“Violet Podstuka.”

“Why me?”

“I have a brain ... you have a brain. I prefer brains to brawn. Thick as a brick is not what I forsee in my future. I seek a mate ... you are the best this school can provide. What say you?”

“Umh,” he hemmed. And THEN he took a really good look at me. All the blood in his brain went elsewhere and he passed out. Where the blood went took a ton. It had a massive container to fill.

“Ooo, Roger...”

He was out and didn’t hear me say that.

Good.

So ... the blood that didn’t go ... there ... was pooling on his cheek ... the poor boy whacked his forehead a good one... ‘As an aside ... I’ve never understood why something awful is called ‘a good one.’ This looked like a bad one to me.

Well hush my mouth and call me Shirley ... the juniors were going to have a mass meeting in the auditorium this morning ... I wasn’t supposed to be there ... Roger wasn’t supposed to be there ... Then again ... Roger wasn’t supposed to be bleeding all over the auditorium floor.