"Boys, what're we doing? You're late. By 3 minutes." the man from earlier proclaimed. "C'mon, let's get started already."
Everyone sat down on the cold wooden floor of the school gymnasium in front of, presumably, their teacher. Greg, Rowley, and Chirag sat down next to each other. On Greg's left was another boy. Fregley from lunch. His owl was no longer with him. He seemed a lot more calm, though saliva still dripped from his thick pink lips. The boy licked his braced teeth with vigour.
"Aight, let's get started," their teacher began. "Name's Coach. Coach Malone. And this is P.E. Prepare to get yo ass fuckin' whooped, ankles broken, and shit knocked. No carnivals, no games, ya dig?" His proclamation was met with silence.
"YA DIG?!"
The class nodded reluctantly. Greg noticed Rowley swallow with a gulp in the corner of his eye, and suddenly felt his bowels loosen. Coach meant business. A little drop of warm, brown substance plopped down in his school gym uniform shorts.
On the other side of the room, Patty Farrell began to fidget. She was sniffing around with that nosy nose of her's. She suddenly shot her hand up to get the coach's attention. "Farrell, what the fuck is it?" he responded. "Coach Malone, I think I smell poop. It's coming from over there," she explained, pointing in Greg's general vicinity. Shit, shit, shit, she's onto me. I knew my loose bowels would get me in trouble. I can't let this happen! What if Holly's in this class? No, Chirag probably would've mentioned that. Unless...he's trying to trick me? No, focus. Stand up for yourself.
"Okay, who the fuck took a shit up in this bitch?" Malone shouted. "I'm starting to think," said Patty, "that it's coming from riiiiiight over there." eyeing Greg and his friends.
"Fuck, these muthafuckas again? Aight, confess. Who did it?" Coach Malone growled sternly. Think, think, think... I can't ruin my reputation on the first day! But I have to say something! Oh, I know!
"Chirowgley!" Greg screamed with little thought. Everyone around him eyed him with suspicion.
"So, that's our culprit. Greg Heffley, you're the imposter among us!" Patty yowled as she launched herself off the floor and pounced directly onto Greg.
Greg felt her weight on top of him. Coach Malone laughed to no end, even pulling out his phone to record the ordeal. Patty wasted no time. She lifted him up and proceeded to suplex the shit out of him before pinning him down and biting him on the throat. Greg felt the warm liquid pool around his neck. "YEEAASGGGHHHH" Greg yowled. FUCK, THIS BITCH JUST DREW BLOOD. THAT'S IT! "BLANK SLATE, SMACK THIS HOE!" but, nothing happened. Greg felt a strange feeling coming from his own fighting spirit. It seemed that he was no longer able to manipulate others. And so, he mustered up what little raw physical strength he had left and attempted to shove her off, but it was to no avail! His meek wimpy arms could not withstand her immense weight. It wasn't even that she was fat, but she was so damn muscular that it was intolerable.
It was then when Greg remembered one thing from his interconnected past with Patty, and that was a little chime he used to weaken her in their younger days. Without hesitation, Greg gargled, "Patty Patty is a fatty, has a face, just like a ratty!" With that, Patty released her grip on Greg as she shrieked with utmost terror. She fell back and began to flail around on the floor, cursing and screaming, "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"
Greg breathed a sigh of relief as he struggled to his feet. He begged his teacher for some gauze, or something to cover the wound, but he ignored him. Greg realized that he had broken a sweat. No surprise, as it was about 90 degrees or so in the gym, but his skin felt oddly agitated, as if it were swelling, a pain so sudden and quick and unnoticeable, but so painful all the same.
With copious amounts of blood and human excrement (and a little pee!) coating the gym floor, the coach figured it was best to move things outside. "Aight cucks. We're moving this stupid fucking class outside. NOW!" With that, they awkwardly shuffled out big metal gym doors and onto the basketball courts directly outside.
"Holy smokes Greg, you almost got smacked silly out there!" Rowley breathed. "Yeah, I'm fucking bleeding from the neck." Greg retaliated. Rowley looked down and shuffled his feet. "You didn't struggle as much even against my invincible stand, Gregory." Chirag remarked. Embarrassed for nearly losing a fight to a girl, Greg just kept his mouth shut. He glanced up as he saw everyone drawing themselves towards the big green field; the Westmore centerpiece, if you will. According to Rodrick, P.E. on the field was the equivalent to Hell on Earth. Even in the deadly Plainville winters, in which they could temperatures as low as negative fifty degrees celsius, the Coach would still make kids suffer on the field, just to get a kick out of himself. What a dick.
Greg found his eyes trailing to an oddly-coloured patch of ground on the basketball courts. It was a blend of yellow and a greenish-blue. He stepped towards, and Rowley followed. As he drew nearer he realized what such a substance was: a piece of mouldy cheese. Something was drawing Greg closer and closer to it. He barely reached his arm out, a finger pointed, when Chirag cried, "STOP! GOOD GOD MAN, YOU ALMOST GOT THE CHEESE TOUCH!"
"What?" Greg said calmly, still entranced. "You don't know the legend? Well, long ago, a German exchange student named Franz Ori Stroheim came to the school. On his flight from Germany he brought with him a slice of cheese he planned on showing to his new American classmates. Apparently, he got the cheese in Italy. Anyway, by the time he got to school, the cheese was starting to mold. From then on, he was labeled as the kid with the 'cheese touch'. Rumours spread like a wildfire, and people avoided him like the bubonic plague. One day, Franz had enough. So, to pass the curse on, he started touching other people. To rid yourself of the cheese touch, you need to touch someone else to pass it on. Rumor has it that an ancient mold within the cheese awakens stand abilities in people, and that its curse on the school is eternal." Chirag told in great detail. "Oh, and, I was unaffected by the cheese. I awakened my stand back in India."
"So, why don't you just remove the cheese?" Greg pondered aloud. As he begged the question the two turned to see Rowley passionately licking the cheese. "ROWL-" Chirag attempted to scream before Greg covered his mouth. "SHUT THE FUCK UP! Do you think I wanna be seen around the kid who has the cheese touch? No! But I can't just abandon Rowley, so if we keep it on the downlow, then the cheese touch isn't even real. It's just a social construct." Greg whispered aggressively, letting Chirag go.
With no warning whatsoever, Rowley wrapped his thick meaty arms around Greg's waist and forcefully kissed him on the lips, before shoving his friend away and saying, "What the fuck, Greg, I'm not gay." Astonished, disgusted, and flattered (as well as somewhat aroused) all at the same time, Greg breathed a sigh of relief as the wound in his neck began to close, and the pain began to ease.
"AYO! GET'CHYO YEE YEE ASSES OVER HERE!" Coach Malone shouted from the field. The three friends hustled on over. "Aight, this how this gon' work," Malone began. " Starting from one end of the field to the other, y'all are gonna keep runnin' back and forth until you've hit 7000 metres within a 4 and a half minute time limit. If I see anyone start to slow down, or God forbid stop in any capacity, I'll be gunnin' yo asses down with this mf glock!" The class collectively gasped and began to tremble. "Aight, we start in 3..."
"DID HE SAY HE'S GONNA SHOOT OUR ASSES?!" Greg cried to Chirag and Rowley. The latter was in tears, his face stricken with a red shade of dread. Chirag was nodding up and down, muttering prayers under his breath. "2..."
"IF I DIE, SNAP MANNY'S FUGLY ASS BEAVER ASS BUBBY ASS PINWHEEL HEAD ASS GOOFY ASS FOR ME!" Greg demanded to whoever would follow suit. "1... RUN!"
NEXT CHAPTER: INTERMISSION: JOTARO KUJO ARRIVES
PART 1, CHAPTER FOUR: END
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GREG'S Bizarre Adventure
AdventureYoung Greg Heffley lives a typical, boring life. He feels abused by his family. He feels that they don't want him. He thinks himself as the smartest one in the house, and wishes his family would just disappear. He usually spends his days playing Twi...
