Winter in May

~14~ The Sinister Sins of Someone's Sister

"Lilith, Mother of Demons, I call on thee. Oh great she-demon of myth, she-demon of vengeance, hear my call, heed my plea." ~ N. D. Jonnes, Sins of the Sister

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After leaving the Popular People's Party, Butchy strolls down the long rows of the lunch shelter. Looking for the one lame geek guy that Butchy knows for sure will have the answer to his many burning questions. The throngs of flocks standing around crowding the center of the shelter, wisely part like the Red Sea at the march of The Butcher on his way to see the "smarty people". All the while scowling around the crappy section of the shelter, and silently thanking the Gridiron Gods he was born awesome enough never to have been here before. 

He finally spots his prey sitting among the Sophomores dorks talking about math or Dork Trek? Or whatever it is that geeks talk about that's not football, yoga butts, and big beer boobs. The Butcher stomps his way through the benches, and the rank and file start to flee the coming monster. For they all know a simple San Fall truth, The Butcher Boy is a psycho and to be avoided at all costs. Because everyone and their sister heard about what happened that once time to that thinking he was tough guy at Da Forst many yesterdays ago.

"Hey Clipboard cat, let me ask you a question real fast." Butch unapologetically interrupts twenty ongoing conversations about stuff he doesn't care about.

"Ah...okay, Butch?" The thin kid takes his glasses off and steels himself for whatever horrible torture is going to happen to him at the hands of The Butcher of San Fall.

"So what would happen if more people had detention than there were seats in the library?" Butchy poses his math problem.

"I don't think that would never happen." Cliffboard dismisses the query carefully.

"Well, just say it did." Butchy crosses his massive arms and frowns down demanding to be taken highly flocking seriously. "What would happen then?"

"So let me see if I am understanding your question correctly?" Cliffboard suddenly on shaky ground with the Butcher and decides to take the question deadly serious. "If detention has three hundred seats ...and there are 301 detentions? Then what would happen to that last one?"

"Yeah...that." Butchy grunts along assuming that Cliffboard can do the smarty mouth math he can not.

"Then that last person would probably have to come back the next day?" Clifford winces, hoping to hell that this was the right answer and the psychopath will go away now.

"Even if they clocked in, before they had no spot?" Butchy changes the equation.

"Ah huh? Well, if they clocked in and then they can't find a seat? Then I suppose it would have to count on some level? I mean I'm not totally sure, because like I said it's never happened." Cliffboard smiles as pleasantly as possible to placate the monster. "But with the honor code in effect? They should come back the next day and serve out the detention off the clock? At least, that's what I would do."

"And if the next day was the same thing? Or even double the number of detentions, then what?" Butchy follows up the word problem.

"Then I honestly have no idea what would happen." Cliffbaord gives up the pretense of even trying to understand Trainspotting mathematics. After all, he's flocking advanced gawddammit!

"What happens when you don't know something? Who do you go get the answer from?" April interjects bluntly.

"Mrs. St. Claire in the main office?" Cliffboard replies cautiously back at the freshmen fearleader now demanding his attention.