The next morning, Deb Webster took a piping hot shower and slithered into a leather track suit covered in colorful chunks of Venetian glass. There was no going back now. She was about to make one of the zaniest, wackiest, and most outlandish fashion statements ever made in Swedshon, Indiana. Why? Because she was determined to keep Timmy Bones’ mind off the fact that she owed him mucho dinero, that’s why!!!
Dancing back and forth in front of the mirror, she realized the outfit left something to be desired. With a shiver of excitement, she seized a stuffed unicorn from off her bed and used scissors to snip off its head, which she then mounted atop her own with the aid of an elastic band looped under her chin. The result was a very cool sort of two-headed look that was sure to drive Timmy Bones wild. Finally, she stepped into a pair of high-topped Reeboks and dashed back into the Webster family bathroom to tease her auburn tresses into a deluxe Afro that positively spewed out from beneath the stuffed unicorn head.
“SUCESS,” Deb shrieked aloud in the bathroom. Smearing on a hint of Pink Mink, she couldn’t help but notice that she looked like something right out of a fashion mag.
“Another one bites the dust,” she hissed, tearing out of the Webster family home and leaping onto her trike. With a mysterious cackle, she rode off into the morning, her scrotum-shaped knapsack bobbing along behind her.
“Goodbye, Deb,” her mother called after her.
“Mom, face it!” Deb hollered back over her shoulder. The truth was that she was way too busy to say goodbye to her mother. She had to bag an invitation to the mall from the Dudettes and find some way of paying Timmy Bones his five smackeroos so he wouldn’t blow her cover.
I’m toast, thought Deb. My goose is cooked. This really gets my goat.
“That’s it,” she crowed, grinding to a stop on her trike. “GOAT! I’ll sell goats at school to earn money! The dough I make will be enough to buy The Bones’ silence, with plenty of bread left over for the mall!”
It was the best idea she had ever concocted – resourceful, original, and totally based upon community needs. The only problem was that she didn’t exactly have any goats to sell. Oh well, she thought. I guess I can just sell goat sandwiches instead. It wasn’t her first choice, but she figured she had to start somewhere. Deb peddled faster towards school, excitement pumping in her veins.
“GOAT SANDWHICHES FOR SALE, FRESH GOAT SANDWICHES HERE,” Deb bellowed as she pranced into West Swedshon Junior High. “GOAT SANDWICHES, JUST LIKE MOM USED TO MAKE, GET YOUR FRESH-PICKED GOAT HERE!”
Everyone’s eyes were fixed on Deb as she marched down the hall with a stuffed unicorn’s head on top of her own, singing the praises of goat-meat sandwiches all the while.
Deb grapevined on over to the Dudettes, who were gathered in front of their lockers, listening to loud rock music and bopping their heads to the beat.
“Hey, Dudettes,” she trumpeted, “who wants a fresh-picked goat sandwhich? I’ve got plenty of them to go around.”
Actually, Deb didn’t have any of them to go around, but she didn’t want to get all hung up on technicalities.
“Does this mean you forgot the graham crackers and juice again?” sighed Donna McDonald.
“First beef jerky and now goat sandwiches,” Millie Miller piped up. “This is really starting to blow my mind.”
“Alright, stop, collaborate and listen,” Jennifer Chicken announced, making the cut-it-out symbol with her first two fingers. “There’s no way we’re eating any more weird shit out of Doreen’s backpack. We’re sneaking off campus after Mr. Maneuver’s fourth period Spanish class and going straight to the Burger Lord. I’ve got a wicked hankering for an all-beef patty on a Kaiser roll.”
“We always go to the Burger Lord,” sniffed Millie Miller. “I was kind of hoping we could go to the Pizza Nook instead.”
“We could head on over to the Felafel Heap, if you want to try something new,” Donna McDonald threw in. “I heard they have good felafel there.”
“I don’t want any silly old felafel,” Jennifer scoffed, running her hands over her blue, fur poncho.
“How about the Sushi Cave, as a compromise?”
“The Sushi Cave is too expensive, and you know it,” Donna McDonald shot back, flicking her corkscrew curls over her shoulder.
“Not for me, it isn’t,” Millie Miller crowed, adjusting her patent leather ball gown.
“That’s just because you’re the richest girl in school,” Donna McDonald retorted. “Let’s just go to the Hot Dog Forrest and call it a day.”
“Snip it,” cried Jennifer Chicken. “We’ll just go to the mall and eat at the food court.”
“The MALL?” Deb gasped, rolling her emerald eyes towards the heavens. “Are you serious? This is way heavenly.”
She couldn’t believe her luck. 8:15 AM and she’d already been invited to the mall! She launched her bony carcass into the air and jump-kicked Jennifer’s locker, then landed on her feet and began swaying her hips slowly from side to side. She had seen something like this in an aerobics video, and decided to try it out. Slowly but surely, Jennifer Chicken and the Dudettes bagan to fall into rhythm and sway along with Deb. She shot them all meaningful glances, as if there were a zesty secret they all shared. Nobody said anything for a minute. They all looked around expectantly, still swaying their hips from side to side.
“I’ve gotta go practice some poses before the bell,” Deb finally chortled, grapevining off down the hall. Timmy Bones intercepted her on the way to homeroom.
“Big D,” he blurted, stopping her dead in her tracks. “It’s me, the hot and steamy Timmy Bones.”
“I know who you are,” Deb yodeled, clasping her hands behind her head. “I’ve seen you around this town before.”
The Bones looked extremely sleek in a crisp, taffeta boxer shorts and a tunic-length blouse covered with real feathers. A hard, leather codpiece was wound around his pelvis, accentuating his rump and drawing the eye to his groin. Black, pleather Keds adorned his tiny feet, and a miniature leather top hat perched atop his muscular scalp.
“Well, I know who you are too,” Timmy Bones tooted, “you’re the gal who owes me mucho smackeroonies, and I’ve come to collect.”
“I’ll make you a deal,” Deb bargained, winking both eyes in a large blink. “You take me as your date to the Holiday Hop and we’ll call it even.”
“Get out of town,” Timmy Bones yipped. “You’ve only been hanging out with Jennifer Chicken for two days. Besides, I heard you didn’t even remember to bring the graham crackers and juice like you were supposed to. Now fork over the beans.”
“I don’t have any beans, Bones. How about instead of paying you back in money, I pay you back in savory, slow-roasted goat sandwiches, just like Mom used to make?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” bleated The Bones. “Stop the press. You’ve got goat sammies?”
“Well, not with me…” Deb admitted.
“What, do you have them at home or something? Where are the goat sammies, Big D? Talk to me.”
Deb hadn’t really thought about where she was going to get the actual sandwiches. Maybe her mother could whip some up if Deb brought home a goat for her to slaughter…
“I…I’m going to whip up a batch thereof this evening,” Deb declared, holding her scrotum-shaped knapsack high above her head so that The Bones would be sure to take heed of it. “Top secret Webster family recipe.”
“I’ll be damned,” Timmy Bones boomed. “I haven’t had fresh goat sandwiches since I was a child in Vancouver. I’d give anything just to taste that sweet meat one more time.”
“I can have them to you tomorrow morning,” Deb announced, “but not before.”
“That’s okay,” Timmy Bones reasoned, “I’ve got some codfish in my codpiece in case hunger strikes in the interim.”
“Lemme get this straight,” Deb leveled, “If I give you a bunch of fresh, hearty goat sandwiches tomorrow morning, you’ll let me off the hook for your gag money?”
“I will accept the sandwiches in lieu of the five smackeroonies you owe me, yes. Just so long as the goat meat is lean and juicy.”
“You’re on,” Deb bellowed, high fiving The Bones. Now all she had to do was get through Mr. Maneuver’s fourth period Spanish class, go to the mall with the Dudettes, find a goat for her mother to slaughter, and then she would be home free!
Rooster droppings, Deb thought all of a sudden, that doesn’t take care of the money problem. How am I supposed to go to the West Swedshon Mall without any money?
“Uh…one more thing, Timmy Bones,” Deb added, thinking fast. “I’m going to need a deposit on those sammies. About twenty bucks, to be refunded upon your receipt of the goods. Goat meat doesn’t come cheap, you know.”
“You’re a real smart Alec,” Timmy Bones hollered, “a real Johnny-come-lately!”
“Do you want the Sammies or not?” Deb crooned, fluttering her eyelashes at him.
“Fine,” he grumbled, pulling some crumpled bills from inside his codpiece. They were warm and moist from being tucked under the codfish, and Deb accepted them eagerly, pressing them to her muzzle and inhaling deeply.
“Those sandwiches better be damned zesty,” The Bones warned, storming off down the hall. Everyone stared at Deb, wondering about this new mystery girl that was schmoozing with the hot and steamy Timmy Bones. As the bell rang to signal the start of homeroom, Deb addressed the crowd of curious teens.
“Doreen Webster has done it again,” she announced, using her hairbrush as a makeshift microphone. “I have some money and I’m going to the West Swedshon Mall!”
previously: Deb Webster & the Curse of the Haunted Textbook, Chapter 2 “The Mysterious Phone Call”
previously: Deb Webster & the Curse of the Haunted Textbook, Chapter 1 “Popular at Last!”
