[Fiction] My Crazy Life: High School Field Trip

[Honestman]

Dang, it really was a crazy trip. Great addition. Please update soon.

[Duckers]

I guess the big question was whether or not Dana had been trying to punch me on purpose. For a split second, I thought she had lashed out at me intentionally, but then I noticed that she had just been putting her outer shirt back on. And actually, even the fact that I had thought that she might have done that on purpose made me feel guilty.

“Sorry,” Dana whispered. At least she was a bit more aware of her surroundings now. The apology didn't really make up for the nutshot or the elbow smash, but I gave her a feeble smile (which was about all I could muster up).

“Bitch,” my dick moaned.

“Shut up,” I snapped back mentally, though there wasn't really a lot of snap to it. I'd have to punish it later. Damn, that self-inflicted bang on the doorframe was starting to hurt worse than the other hits combined. Well, the ones to my head at least; my nuts were still far, far in the lead.

Dana was tugging at my sleeve. I almost snapped at her, but I realized she was just fixing it. It had been kinda rolled up the way dudes from the 50s had rolled up a pack of smokes in their sleeve. Not that I would have been sporting around a pack of smokes.

Maybe she could rub my balls and fix them while she was at it?

The lightshow in my head had come to an end, so I started giving her the once over too. Her tanktop was crooked and exposed a bit of her bra. A quick tug to one of the straps sorted that out.

“Hat,” she whispered softly and offered my cap to me. I was still holding my underwear, which I stuffed into one of my pockets, and grabbed my hat with my other hand. As soon as I put the hat on, I could tell it had gotten mangled a bit in the floor. Off it came, and I rolled the bill a bit to fix it. Yep, that was better.

We picked our extra goodies back up and looked at each other again. Then we broke into the biggest shit-eating grins that you could imagine. Somehow, we had gotten way too crazy but managed to hide what we'd been doing.

My balls weren't throbbing quite as hard, and it actually felt as though they were located in their proper location. If someone happened to open the curtain on us right then, they might have assumed that we had been making out in the booth. Given our situation a few moments ago, that was one hell of an improvement to being caught butt-ass naked.

“Should we wait them out?” I whispered, and Dana nodded.

After a few minutes passed, it seemed obvious that the people outside weren't leaving the arcade anytime soon. Dana made the same comment.

I sighed. “Act naturally.”

She snickered, “Naturally? How do you act naturally when you were almost caught naked?” She was straightening her hair again.

“Well, you weren't the one naked.”

“You had your shoes on,” she pointed out.

“I don't think they count.”

“Sure they do.” She was tugging at clip in the back of her hair.

“No way! Feet are about the least sexual part of your body.”

She glared at me. “Are you saying that I have ugly feet?” Her hair was temporarily forgotten.

Holy shit! How had that gotten turned around on me? I started to stammer out something about how nice her feet looked, but she started laughing softly. “Why you little...”

“Gotcha,” she tittered and then added a quick kiss. Well damn, if that was going to be the reward for being “got”, I didn't mind all that much.

While I was riding high on the pleasant emotions from the friendly banter and the kiss, I opened the curtain and stepped out of the booth. I tried to look calm, cool, and collected, which I felt that I pulled off pretty well. Assuming you ignored how I staggered as my head swum a bit and also overlooked the grimace that I wore as my nuts reintroduced themselves to gravity. I forced myself not to glance over at the other people in the arcade.

By comparison, Dana stepped out of the booth looking like a queen emerging from her carriage. The mini-Duckers stuffed animal tarnished that image just a bit. Hell, even her clothes looked unwrinkled, where my shirt looked like it had been trampled by an elephant. She was also avoiding our mystery visitors.

As we started walking in the opposite direction, I took a deep breath and drew myself up to my full height, which caused my back to pop mid-stride. Ahhh, that felt better. While the booth had been somewhat roomy, I had been hunching a bit.

If I remember correctly, the pinball machines were off to the left, so we circled away from them the other way towards the skee-ball machines, which put a maze of video games between us and them. Sneaking out without being seen was nearly impossible, but I didn't think they had seen us come out of the booth. Say what you will about pinball machines, but they are loud with sudden thumps and flashing colors that makes it harder to notice anything else going on around you. Maybe the people would just assume we were playing some game in the back.

I probably shouldn't have worried about what some random strangers might have thought, but the idea of someone assuming that Dana had been involved in some near-naked hijinks bothered me deeply. I guess I was still trying to avoid that “nasty reputation” that Skid Row sang about. If not for me, then at least for her.

Yeah, I'm a regular duck in shining armor. Damn, I wonder if that would mean that my helmet's visor would be shaped like a duck bill?

[Calvinspa]

Best Christmas present I could have hoped for. Happy New Year, can't wait for more!!!

[Duckers]

Burger Time. Yeah, I got distracted by that pixelated chef-bastard. Who would have thought that being chased by fried eggs and hot dogs with feet could be so much fun? Yeah, there's some sarcasm there. Hadn’t seen that video game in quite some time, so it wasn’t totally my fault. As games go, that one was pretty lame, but I still had a soft spot for it.

“Kirk?” Dana whispered. She gestured for me to move along.

“Huh? Oh, sorry,” I whispered back. I guess I had ended up standing there staring at the dumbass game. As we moved along, I once again heard the distinctive sound of the queen ship from Galaga using her tractor beam on your ship. Or maybe it was Galaxian? I can never remember which of those was the original and which was more of a bootlegged copy.

Oh yes, I was sidetracked yet again. Dana and I were supposed to be sneaking out of the arcade, but I was busy getting my geek on and ready to track down the nearest change machine. Partially true, I was recovering from the shock of nearly getting busted and doing my best to live in denial.

Dana tugged me along by the arm.

Our would-be discoverers were still going old school on at the pinball machines. At least that’s what it looked like from the occasional glimpses that I could catch between machines. We really shouldn't have been so freaked out. We had snuck out of the booth without being noticed, so we were technically off the hook. I guess we weren’t thinking straight.

“Do you have a favorite video game?” I asked quietly.

“What?” Dana had been trying to see who the mystery people were also by peering between some basketball game and Dig Dug (could have sworn that I had seen that game closer to the front). Say what you will about older video games, but that dude from Dig Dug really knew how to give a nasty blowjob. Ended them with a real bang too.

Hey, if you've played it before, you know what I'm talking about.

“Favorite video game?”

She gave me a look that thoroughly questioned my sanity. “I don’t know.”

“Have you ever played any games?” I think I started talking to her to try to distract her from being so worried, but it seemed to also be having an effect on me too.

“I guess.” Now she was standing on her toes trying to see over Ghosts-n-Goblins and even went so far as to hop. What the hell? I can’t even see over top most video game cabinets.

“Surely you have a favorite,” I said as I walked past her pogo stick impersonation. I was half-expecting her to ask me to give her a boost. Not that I would have minded another excuse to get my hands on her. I managed another glimpse and could have sworn the girl was looking back this way, so I stopped at some shooting game.

You know, the kind of game that had a couple of fake uzis mounted to it? There were a bunch of them that came out all at once back then (kinda like the music games with the color-coded guitars and drums), and I can't really remember one game from another. I do remember that there was an Aerosmith-based shooter that shot out CDs instead of bullets, but I don't think that game had been released yet then.

Dana caught back up. “Frogger.”

“Frogger?” Hadn't really expected that name, but then who I am to talk after zoning out watching Burger Time?

“Yeah, you jump the frog from the bottom to the top and try not to get ran over or eaten by a crocodile.”

“Pretty sure those are alligators.” I walked ahead a couple more machines, stopping by Mortal Kombat this time.

After a couple moments, she tip-toed past whispering, “Crocodiles.”

I don’t remember what machine she stopped at. Instead of pretending to play one of the games, she bent to retie her shoe. Damn, I couldn’t resist, so as I went past her, I gave her ass a playful swat. “Gator.”

Not sure what game I stopped at that time either, but I have a good excuse; she finished fiddling with her shoe then caught me with a shot to my ribs that managed to destroy my short-term memory. I certainly hoped that it was one of her elbows because it had felt like a knife. I do clearly recall her sing-songing “Croc-o-dile” in my ear as she went past.

After wincing in pain for an appropriate amount of time, I moved off in pursuit. No clue how long we went on like that, but before I knew it we ran out of games and were rounding the claw machine near the entrance.

“What are you two arguing about?”

No way. No freaking way. It couldn’t be. But it was. When we turned around toward the voice, it was indeed the Thompsons. Or Mr. Thompson to be exact. Mrs. Thompson glanced our way, but she was busy working the flippers on the pinball machine. No, that wasn't an euphemism for anything sexual either, but I'll have to remember that one for later.

I wanted to damn my luck, but I caught myself. The Thompsons hadn’t jerked the curtain open on the booth, so my luck had panned out a bit better than it normally did. Eh, go figure.

“Frogger... Are they alligators or crocodiles?” I thought that I sounded cool when I said that, but Dana informed me later that I had been a stammering fool. Guess you can’t win them all.

The Thompsons were giving me matching looks of concentration, and I was on the verge of repeating my question. I shouldn't have bothered; we were in an arcade after all. Frogger wasn't as well known as Pac-Man, but it was still a cultural icon.

“Crocodiles” was Mrs. Thompson’s response. The way she said it brooked no room for uncertainty, though she gave the pinball machine a last thump as her game ended. On the other hand, Mr. Thompson seemed on the verge of saying alligators, but he simply shrugged. Maybe that was probably just wishful thinking on my part that he had been about to agree with me, or maybe it had just been a matter of him already knowing not to argue with his wife. If you are curious, it turned out that the ladies were right. Crocodiles. Who knew?

After that, Dana and I found ourselves sharing an awkward silence with the Thompsons. I had a legitimate reason to feel awkward seeing how I had that brief glimpse of them naked and conjoined inside of the abandoned restaurant etched into my brain. Maybe they had seen that I had seen them? Yeah, very awkward.

Mr. Thompson finally cleared his throat and pointed out how soon we’d be leaving the park. Dana mumbled something about wanting to buy some fudge, and I added that I still wanted to buy a shirt before we left. The Thompsons were hoping to ride a couple more rides, so we took our leave.

As we left the arcade, Mr. Thompson said, “Kirk, you really shouldn’t let people walk all over you like that.”

I didn’t have a clue about what he meant, so I asked, “Huh?” Yeah, another one of my profound moments. Damn, did they know what we'd been doing?

He gestured with his chin. “The back of your shirt. It looks like you've been trampled in a stampede.” Mrs. Thompson was grinning too.

I pulled around as much of my shirt as I could. There were a series of footprints all over the back. My own footprints, I might add, which made me remember trampling all over the clothes in that damned booth. I guess my shirt bore the worst of it. I started to concoct a story about how I had been stretched out on one of the benches earlier and Pete had stepped on my back, but that just sounded stupid. Luckily, I remembered one of my brother’s catchphrases: “Keep it simple, stupid.”

“You know me: the human doormat,” I said lamely. It sounded lame, but at least it wasn’t some convoluted story. Besides, most teenagers wouldn’t rat out another student to a teacher. It did earn some minor laughter from the Thompsons and even Dana (though hers sounded forced).

We parted moving away in opposite directions with Dana brushing furiously at the back of my shirt. Believe it or not, the prints actually came out. I guess it had just been dust from the booth. Sometimes I get lucky in good ways too. Sometimes.

[Honestman]

If I had to sum all that up in one word, I would say nervous. Very good. Not many people can make you feel in the story. Good Job!!! . Please continue this awesome story.

[Duckers]

I can’t remember if Dana got her fudge or not. She ended up buying some stuff in one shop while I was looking at shirts. I had considered buying Dave a shirt, but they didn’t have anything that read “I bailed on my best friend to bang a chick while he had a good time at the park today.” I almost asked an airbrush artist if he could put that on a shirt, but he was too busy with last minute shirts.

Referring to Steph as just a “chick” was hard. Definitely not the truth either. Even as that phrase played through my head, the word chick had a number of images attached to it that I tried not to dwell on. When it came right down to it, Steph was mine. Yeah, I feel like an asshole for even thinking that way, but it was how I felt just then. Neither of us owned the other, but there had always been a strange connection between us that neither of us had ever understood (then at least).

After some deliberation, I picked out a navy blue tie-dyed t-shirt that had the last two digits of the year printed on it like a football jersey. For some reason, I've never been a fan of those multicolored tie-dyed shirts. I think we had made some at home once and the damned things all turned pink once they were washed. I've worn the occasional pink shirt in my time, but those times were few and far between. Mostly back when the neon colors were in fashion.

I wandered around the store for a few minutes bud didn't see Dana, so I headed towards the register to checkout. The people ahead of me had just finished, so I pretty much stepped straight to the counter without having to wait. Go me!

Oh wait! I used my mental eraser and removed the “Go me!” that I had just thought and quickly scribbled in “Awwwww, fuck!” It took me a moment to recognize where I knew her from, but the gal running the register was the one who had busted us behind the restaurant. Dammit! What the hell was she even still doing here? Although I guess we might have caught her.. or I mean, she might have caught us right at the beginning of her shift. That would explain why she was still there at least.

If you remember, I had described her as being fairly average, and she still was to the greater extent. Seeing her with more of a normal, everyday expression on her face made her look prettier than I recalled. Probably part of the reason why I had a difficult time placing her.

It was too late for me to turn away, so I laid my shirt on the counter carefully. My only hope was that maybe she wouldn't recognize me. Not sure how much of her attention had been our faces anyway. In my head, I heard the distinctive cry of the opening guitar riff from Barracuda once again.

“Have you had a good day at the park today?” She asked pleasantly. She went about taking the security tag off my shirt without seeming to recognize me. She sure seemed calm and collected as compared to how she had acted earlier. I guess she had taken a few moments to “relieve some pressure”, so to speak. I still subscribed to Pete's reasoning on why she was acting so oddly when she found us.

The mental image of her half-naked in some secluded spot taking care of business like a porn starlet's audition tape made me crack a genuine smile. It also made it easier to talk to her without sounding scared witless.

“Once the rain passed, it turned out to be a pretty good day,” I admitted as much to myself as to her.

“I'm glad to hear it,” she said as she rang up the shirt and told me the amount. “Are you here alone?” She glanced around.

“Nah, I'm with a school group.” I handed her a twenty.

She gave me an odd look as she took the money. “Ah, well I hope you are at least getting to spend the night in a nice hotel.”

“Heck no! Maybe if the buses broke down or something.”

She grinned. “Well, I better not hear any reports about a teenager getting caught disabling school buses in the parking lot.” She ripped off the receipt and passed back my change. The sound of a receipt being torn from a register has always been one of those universal truths for me. They all seem to sound the same.

I grinned right back. “It's tempting. The drive back is going to be long.” And hopefully extremely interesting, but I left that part out. I was really trying not to think too far ahead at this point, but it was hard not to think about that silky wetness that I had discovered in the photo booth.

As I took the bag with my new purchase in it from her, she added, “If you come back next season, look me up.” She tapped her name tag briefly. I had noticed it earlier, but the way she tapped focused my attention on where it rested on the upper slope of her breast. “I know some better spots that are a bit more private than a boarded up restaurant.” Oh damn!

She was still grinning, but it was an entirely different type of grin. This one promised all sorts of things. Things that I would no doubt find utterly fascinating.

Nothing witty came to mind, so I ended up just nodding at her. She chuckled. It was a rather impolite sound. Well, impolite for public places.

I left the store as calmly as I could. My bag was held at waist level, masking the growing bulge in my shorts. Apparently getting propositioned like that caused sudden changes to parts of my anatomy.

Did I end up going back the next year? That would be telling now wouldn't it? For now, I'll just say that I've visited that park numerous times over the years, and I'll let you make what you will of it.

That shop wasn't very far from where I had purchased my hat, and the entrance faced the long pool with all the fountains. The clone of the Space Needle was off to my right. I didn't see Dana anywhere nearby, so I decided to wait there. After a few moments of listening to my dick try to convince me that I needed to go back inside and talk to that attendant some more, I felt it best to wait a bit further away from the shop. “Boss, get back in there! Show her what we can do! She didn't get a close enough look at me earlier; eye level should do.” You know, stuff like that.

I strolled over next to the wrought iron fence that surrounded the pool and watched as the fountains changed colors thanks to different lights. There was a steady breeze blowing in my face, and it carried some of the spray from the fountains along with it. After a moment or two, I realized that I didn't need to hold my bag as a disguise anymore. I think my dick was weeping silently to itself, but it was hard to tell over the rush of the fountains.

“There's Duckers,” a female voice said, and there was a light pat on my shoulder. It was another female friend from school who was walking by with a few other people. All of them were sharing a huge bag of cotton candy. I won't really mention her other to say that she's what I always thought of as a “Toucher”. At one point I thought she liked me because of the way she was always touching me, but I noticed that she did that with almost everyone she considered a friend. Guys, girls. It didn't seem to matter.

Dana found me right after that. I had actually spotted her while the Toucher was talking to me, but she had stayed out of the way. Now, she shook a smaller bag at me as she approached.

“I see you found your fudge.” Meh, I lied about not remembering the fudge. I do that from time to time.

“A girl's gotta have her fudge.” She offered me a piece. Peanut butter without nuts. Rock on! No, I'm not a nut hater, but some things are meant to be smooth and creamy without any crunchy nuts getting in the way. And if you managed to read some type of dirty meaning into that, I apologize for letting my perverseness rub off on you.

I savored a couple of small bites of fudge, then said, “I noticed you didn't want to talk to the Toucher.”

“Well, no,” she admitted. “Vicki swears up and down that she touched one of her boobs once.” Once again it seemed odd to hear her say a word like “boob”. I thought about making up a story about her touching Dave's wiener for no better reason than to one-up her story, but I decided not to.

“Pretty sure she doesn't do it on purpose.” And it wasn't until years later when I saw the TV series “Monk” where the main character had to go around touching things that I knew that I had been right. I guess it had just been her obsessive-compulsive quirk. Other than that, she had been normal. For the most part. Her group had driven up separately; she didn't handle being on a bus very well. I remember one short field trip we took to see a play at the local college. Every few miles, she had to get up and touch all the seats. I think I remember hearing that she didn't do well with fans either, but I don't know how much truth there was to that. She often wore bandaids on her fingertips, but I had always attributed that more to her burning herself on hot things.

“Wait, are you saying that you don't want your boobs touched?” I asked.

“By her, no; by you... well, let's see how you play your cards.” She said coyly.

Once again, I could have made some comment about what kind of “card playing skills” I had display so far that day, but I ended up leaning in and giving her a fudge-coated kiss. “I'll see what I can do.”

“You're off to a tasty start,” she said, licking her lips.

[eostby]

Two updates in two days? Way to go, Duckman!

[Duckers]

Well, hopefully the world won't end because of it. If it does, feel free to blame Dave or Pete. Heck, maybe it was Horse Dick getting his freakmeat stuck in the wrong place.

[Honestman]

Well, if needed just have his freakmeat get caught in a revolving door. Lol. Or just put ice down his pants. I did that to my friend when she was in her one-piece swimsuit. and tossed one down the front of the neck to the top of her boobs. No, I didn't put my hand down her swimsuit. Never seen anything so funny. But her/my friend got me back by putting a handfull of ice down the back of my pants. She was laughing but I was freezing. Haha Nice additions, let's hope some "juicy" things happen on the way back. Post again soon.

[pm90]

Duckers, you are a GOD! This thread has been my sole source of entertainment for the past day and a half. And I've stayed up waaaay too late reading, both last night and tonight, and I've only just now finally caught up. I must admit that I was even reading discreetly on my phone while I was at work, you've had me that enthralled.

It's really very rare that something I'm reading will actually make me laugh literally out loud, but I've had to stifle myself countless times for fear of waking my brother, with varied success. I'm in awe of how much detail and character development you've managed to pack in here, and where normally I would get frustrated and annoyed if the author kept interjecting with tangents or references to future events, or speaking directly to the reader, somehow you manage to do it in such a way that it really just makes the entire reading experience that much more entertaining. I aspire to be able to share my own stories with even a fraction of your wit, attention to detail, and patience.

I know your life is busy, and your fans really aren't your top priority, but I really look forward to reading future installments. Even if you do make me wait a month between each.

Thank you, sir, for sharing both your experiences and your talents with us.

[Duckers]

Wow, thanks for the comments, gang. Pm90, you almost made me blush.

Seriously though, I've been trying to channel my teenage self and let him tell his story and toss in some tidbits from time to time.

.............................

It turned out that Dana and I both ended up buying shirts from the park. Dana chose a yellow tank top, which cost just as much as the navy blue tie-dyed job I had picked up. I’ve never really understood how shirts are priced. Mine must have been twice as much fabric (at the very least), but hers probably showed off her real estate twice as well. I guess women end up paying more for presentation than content, or maybe I should say that they paid more to present their content better?

We killed some more time and eventually ended up sitting on a bench near the front of the park with the reflecting pool and fountains extending out from us to the fake Space Needle. I think I had wolfed down a quick burger, and we were sharing a funnel cake just then. Fresh, hot funnel cake is awesome.

We were near some of the shops and saw various students hurrying back and forth making last minute purchases. Horse Dick went by in the distance holding a balloon of all things. I assumed he had his junk in his pants and wasn’t choking his girlfriend with it again, but all I could see was his head and the balloon. Carter nodded to us as he passed. He was caught up telling some story to another football player using huge animated gestures. Their girlfriends were eating cotton candy and chatting behind them. Our sheep loving friend strolled past holding hands with another girl from class. She had curly hair, but that’s about all the resemblance she bore to a sheep. Oh, he was still wearing a hat too, so I guess the writing was still on his forehead. The Cops theme song went rolling through my head again. BAAAD Boys! Poor Tommy.

It's possible that I even saw Stewie briefly. He was walking with people that I assumed were his parents and sharing a funnel cake of their own. I wasn't certain that was him though. Without the constant stream of swearing and lewd remarks, he looked more or less like any other kid wearing a jersey and sneakers.

Pissy found us a bit after that. Pete asked where we had disappeared to, and I responded with a simple “Arcade”. Missy took that as an excuse to comfort Dana, and I tried not to roll my eyes. Pete was working his way through a huge caramel apple, but that wasn’t half as interesting as the huge striped sucker that Missy was licking on. Good grief, she would give that fucking thing an extra seductive lick whenever she thought I was looking. My dick started to take notice, so I moved my attention elsewhere.

I put my arm around Dana, which earned me a smile. To hell with what any of our classmates thought. Sitting there with Dana leaning against me, I let myself relax. I was tired, but comfortably so. It had been a long, long day.

Eventually, the P.A. crackled to life with an announcement that the fireworks display would start in 10 minutes, which made Pete start complaining. “We’re not going to be able to see a damned thing for all of those fountains. Let’s move.”

“Nah, this is a good spot,” I replied. Pete didn’t believe me and wanted to argue instead of listen to my explanation, so I just shrugged. Dana seemed content to stay where she was too.

“Aw, fuck you Duck. I don't want to miss those fucking rockets. Come on, Babe. Let's go closer to the Needle.”

Missy shrugged and let herself be hauled away, though she did give me one last sucker lick over her shoulder.

“Would it be bad if I broke that damn sucker over her head?” Dana asked quietly. I kinda expected her to spell out “damn” instead of saying it.

I tried to laugh and started to choke on the funnel cake. After a few wracking coughs, I replied, “No, but it would be fun to watch.” Tears were streaming down my face from choking, but I still managed to laugh.

“I probably should,” she observed. “She's been giving you looks like that all day.”

“You noticed that, huh?” If my car hadn't been a few hundred miles away, I would have offered her the ball bat I had been wanting to use on Horse Dick that morning.

“Hard not to.” After a moment of silence, she added, “And she's seen your... your stuff.” The last part was said very quietly. I almost couldn't hear it over the fountains.

“You were the one who wanted to play Truth-or-Dare with them.” I tried to say that very gently.

“I know,” she sighed. “So is this really a good spot to watch the fireworks?” I had no qualms with her changing the subject at that point.

“Yep.”

“But it looks terrible. Won't the Needle be in the way?” I could see that she was trying to imagine the fireworks going off behind the Needle. Yeah, that would blot out part of the show. If only Pete had been willing to let me explain why I chose that spot. To be fair, I couldn't blame it all on Pete. I hadn't really tried very hard to tell him why this was a good spot.

I looked around, trying to find something specific. Ah ha! “Save my seat,” I said as I strode away. I'm sure Dana was a bit shocked that I had jumped up so quickly, but it would only take me a minute.

These days, all of the parks have gone digital in terms of those photographs that they offer to take of you as you enter (and sometimes even leave) the park, and there's usually a shop where you can view the photos to see if you wanted to buy them. Back then, you would have looked into a little keychain at the picture. I wasn't really interested in those types of pictures right now (I had some better ones in my pocket), but they did have something else that I wanted. So I made a quick purchase (I don't remember how much it had cost, only that it was too much!) and went back to Dana.

“Take a look,” I said holding out a postcard.

She took it from me and studied it in the light of the nearby streetlamp. It was a picture of the grand finale from one of the fireworks shows. The fireworks filled the center of the card's glossy image, and the Needle was off to the left. “But that could have been taken from anywhere,” she said.

I wiggled my eyebrows and grinned as I took the postcard back. “I don't take credit for this. You can thank my parents. Last time we were here, Mom bought one of these to send to my aunt. While we were waiting for the show to start, Dad kept looking around trying to figure out where it was taken. We were all mad at him for dragging us down here. We were sure this was going to be a shit.. er.. crappy spot.”

“It's okay. You can say 'shitty',” she barely changed the tone of her voice when she said it that time.

I gave her a kiss (Hrmm, was I really using a form of positive reinforcement to make her more comfortable with swearing? That was kinda sad.) then continued. “Then he pointed out the bottom right of the post card.” I held up the card trying to line everything up for her, but I must have did a bad job. Dana took the postcard and started glancing back and forth. In the lower right of the postcard, you could see part of the roof of one of the more distinctive buildings off to our right. There was also a tree just visible in the left hand corner that lined up too. It had grown a little over the last few years; but between it and the roofline, the match was nearly perfect.

“They took the shot from right here?” She asked.

“Not exactly.” I pointed to a spot a bit behind us and to the left. “Dad figured out it was back there. He even discovered metal grooves inset into the pavement just right for a tripod.”

“Okay, so the Needle won't be blocking the show, but how is this the best spot to watch?”

I was torn. Part of me hoped she would have figured that out on her own, but the other part of me was glad that she hadn't. I started to explain it, when I was interrupted by the announcer on the P.A. again.

“Just wait.” I couldn't have timed it much better if I had tried.

I'm pretty certain that the announcer was a recording this time. He thanked us for coming and hoped that we'd come back again soon. He then went through a short list of corporate sponsors behind the fireworks show. A big name soft drink company, a huge grocery store chain, you get the idea, right?

Somewhere along the way, the fountains had slowed and fallen silent. I'm not sure that most people noticed. Dana was still watching the sky to the right of the needle, expectantly.

With a final advisement to “Enjoy the show!”, the announcer's voice was replaced with trumpets. As they fell silent, you could see people finally noticing that the fountains had stopped. Then the lights went out, leaving us in total darkness!

Okay, it wasn't complete darkness, but the sudden drop in lighting made it seem that way. It did have the effect of hushing the crowd that remained to watch the show. Better yet, it made Dana snuggle up against me a bit more, then she gave a brief “Eeep!” as I gave her breasts a nice squeeze.

Funny thing was that I heard another “eeep” somewhere off to our left and another to the right. The one to the right was followed by a sharp crack that's unmistakeable as a slap. Not everyone got lucky.

Following that, I heard “Crump! Wump! Crump!” in rapid succession and then the sky lit up with three crimson starbursts. They made an inverted “V” shape pointing up with a larger burst at the top. I've never understood the significance of that pattern, but it always preceded any fireworks displays there that I had ever seen.

“Wow,” Dana breathed. She didn't even notice that we were illuminated by the glow and that my hands were still on her chest. I did go and move them to more respectable positions. That wasn't what had her rapt attention. No, she finally understood why this was the best spot in the park to watch from. With the fountains turned off, the pool was almost a huge sheet of glass. The only thing that was disturbing the surface was that faint breeze, but it still reflected the huge blossoms that hung in the sky. On top of that, the red glow seemed to illuminate the Needle with the type of unearthly glow associated with fairy tales. Even though I knew what to expect, I still found myself caught up in the ethereal beauty and swept away in one of those rare moments of unreality.

It lasted only for a moment though and faded softly into the twilight. I found myself sighing at the sudden disappearance. Then more muffled “Crumps!” and “Whumps!” sounded, and the show started in earnest.

[henryzz]

Amazing Duckers!! I really enjoy your writing. Over the last few days I have read loads of the stories on thks forum. I have enjoyed a lot of them but yours is the best!! I have just finished rereading from start to finish(my only reread) and really enjoyed it yet again. Can't wait for your next post. Keep up the amazing writing!!!!

[pm90]

...okay, so that thing I said about being patient and willing to wait a month if that's how long it took you to update? ... yeah, can I take that back? Cuz I really really really want the next update now. I mean, of course I'll wait if I really HAVE to, but... maybe I lied about that patience thing. Sorry. <3

[komando2195]

Yo, great story first of all. I've been reading since almost the beginning, but only started using this account to post my own story, so you get mad props from me bro.
ANYWAY
you take however long you want to on your story. i know that however long it takes you it will be a fantastic addition. we all just want it now lol. but keep up the good work.
thanks bro

[Duckers]

Fireworks exploded into a multitude of colors, bathing the reflecting pool and Needle clone in a psychedelic eruption of shades and hues. Sometimes there were loud BOOMs that echoed throughout the park, and other times there were calling whistles as golden streamers of light corkscrewed off in all directions.

There aren't many people who don't like fireworks, and I'm sure there are a whole spectrum of reasons why. I don't think Dana took her eyes off the display until it ended, but I ended up studying the people around me. I also popped another bit of funnel cake into my mouth and made a face; it wasn't as good when it got cold.

Not long after the everything started, a couple of people passed behind us. There was something familiar about their voices, which were pitched into a fevered urgency. Before I even turned to look, I knew that it was the arguing couple from earlier in the day. When the brighter fireworks lit the two of them up, I could see that the girl was stalking off with her head down and her arms folded across her chest. The guy was following behind her apologizing profusely. I was positive that she was crying, but it didn't make a lot of sense. I figured that he had grabbed her similarly to the way I had grabbed Dana, and she had slapped him for it. I guess it had embarrassed her, or there was something else to it. I shrugged inwardly and turned back to the show.

For the middle of the week, it was a pretty good show. The ones that they put on over the weekend or for special holidays were far more impressive, but then so were the crowds. The people there were well-trained and Oooooh'ed and Aaaaaah'ed at all of the appropriate places. Someone even had the balls to yell, “Fucking A!” during the grand finale.

When it was over, the lights slowly came back on. The fountains stayed turned off, though the multicolored lights just below the surface painted interesting patterns across the water. The P.A. crackled to life again (with a real person this time). We were informed of the time and that the park would be closed in fifteen minutes. As Dave had pointed out once, it was just a polite way of saying “Buy some more shit, take one more piss, and get the fuck out before we kick your ass to the curb!” I'm pretty sure there was a more elegant way for all of that to be said, but Dave had been having a Dave moment.

I spotted Mrs. D by the gate. She waved the two of us over. “Kirk, can you and Dana cover the exits on the far side? I sent the other chaperones to the rest room. Don't let anyone leave and send them over here to wait.”

We nodded and took up our stations. For the next few minutes, we were fairly busy redirecting traffic and sending our classmates over to wait. It was amazing how many of them either didn't notice the chaperones standing off to one side or were just trying to sneak out to the darkened buses for a little “private time”.

Once the group standing there got fairly large, our group automatically started flocking to Mrs. D without being told. Good old herd mentality. Eventually, we were relieved by some of the actual chaperones and decided that we should probably go relieve ourselves, quite literally. It seemed like a better idea than standing awkwardly with the Thompsons, and I realized that I truly needed to go.

The restrooms were on either side of the gate. Women to one side and men to the other. As I weaved my way through the few people heading out the gate, I pondered the significance of such a segregation of the genders. Maybe the women liked it better that way, so they didn't have to smell some of the heady aromas that the guys tend to release?

The restroom had a strange tile job. The floor sported industrial strength brick-colored tiles. They had to have been more than 12-inch squares, because I could step into each one without any part of my shoe crossing the grouted seam. That old rhyme ran through my head: “Step on a crack and break your mother's back.” Fortunately that one never seemed to work. The walls were banded by a row of black squares at the floor and ceiling, but the rest of the tiles were just a haphazard jumble of sizes, shapes, and colors. I loved it! My mind started picking out patterns almost immediately.

Visible above one of the stall doors, a group of yellow-tinted tiles reminded me of the Pink Panther's head. One eye was bigger than the other, so I guess he was either winking at me or impressed with the size of the turd someone had dropped in that stall. Over another stall, I saw either a sword hilt or a cross. Maybe it was there to make it easier to exorcise the stink demons from the place? Let's see... A cluster of tiles looked like a big-headed diver, a bird soaring (or maybe it was supposed to have been an open book), and the front end of a truck. If I spent more time in there, I'm sure I could have spotted other stuff. The funniest thing was right below some of the urinals. Either it was a ballbat or a three-foot long penis. Maybe they modeled that on Horse Dick. Uggg, I cringed at the thought and chose a urinal well away from it.

Once the summer arrived, these front restrooms would have been packed with last minute tinkles and poops, but the combination of the early rain plus the early season had nipped that in the bud. As I approached my chosen receptacle, I noted that three of the ten or so stall doors were closed, and I plainly heard someone hurriedly grabbing toilet paper emanating from one of them. A kid standing on his tip toes was washing his hands at the sink, and an older guy was at the urinal closest to the sink keeping an eye on the kid. I clearly got the grandfather-grandson vibe from them.

As I was hauling out my junk, someone entered and stepped up to the urinal two over from me. Hopefully, it wasn't Pete again. I let loose. Ahhhhhhhh...

The guy to my right coughed, grunted, and then sighed “Ahhhhhhh...” Pretty much just the way it had sounded in my head. Not being able to restrain myself, I glanced to my right. Damn, it was our bus driver. Awww shit, I hoped he didn't decide to strike up a conversation too. Especially not while taking a piss.

“You two have fun today?” He asked. I don't know if he was looking my way or not; my gaze was fixed squarely on the tile in front of me.

“Except for the rainy parts, yeah.” Why do I always get stuck in all these awkward moments? Why oh why, do people want to chat with you while you both are standing around with your dicks out? Come on! Normal guy rules apply here: Unzip, whip it out, make sure you have a good stream going, and then stare at the wall ahead of you and keep your damn mouth shut! Simple.

He ripped off a runny-sounding fart. “Damn good chili they have here,” he observed with a chuckle.

“Didn't try it.” Related to Dana or not, I was starting to want to beat the shit out of him anyway. Oh fuck, then the smell hit! Why me? Why? Weren't there any exhaust fans in there? Come on, dude. Holy hell! I tried to finish up quickly while breathing through my mouth. Was it possible to throw up while pissing? I was doing my damnedest not to find out. I zipped up and tried not to show any obvious signs that I was hurrying away from him, but breaking into a dead sprint from the urinals to the sink might have been a give-away.

Fortunately, the chili-based fart hadn't made it over to the sinks, but the heady miasma of normal crap coming from the stalls behind me was nowhere near pleasant. The grandfather had finished up too and was helping the kid finish at the sink. Good thing too, the kid had washed his hands, arms, elbows, chest, face, and was busily rubbing soap in his hair. I dried my hands with some paper towels instead of using a handdryer and headed for the door.

As I passed behind the bus driver (who was still pissing like a russian race horse), he said, “See ya on the bus.”

“You betcha,” I responded. Damn, I'm pretty certain he hadn't looked my way. Did he really have eyes in the back of his head?

As much as I would have loved to discover what other patterns the tiles made in there, I was happy to step back outside into the cool, stench-free, night air. I couldn't see any stars from inside the park, but I was pretty certain that the sky was clear. I made my way back over to the group and stood on the outer fringes where Dana wouldn't have any problems spotting me. Without a clipboard, I resigned myself to trying to figure out who was standing there from our bus, which really wasn't that hard given how few people had been on it. I had just decided that we were still missing a few people when Dana stepped up next to me.

With a slight shrug towards doing my duty, I turned to smile at Dana. She wasn't smiling though. Her nose was crinkled up in distaste. Uh oh, had the bus driver's napalm-laden fart contaminated me? I gave her a questioning look.

“Someone was being sick in there,” she said uneasily.

“Ahh,” I nodded sagely. “There's nothing like ending a fun day at an amusement throwing up corndogs, french fries, and cotton candy.”

“It wasn't that,” she was shaking her head.

The thought “pregnant” jumped into my head, and I immediately wondered if it had been one of our classmates. Although wasn't that just supposed to be “morning sickness”? Hrmm... “What then?” I asked.

“The poor lady was moaning over and over that she wished she hadn't eaten the chili,” Dana's face had gone from disgusted to sympathetic.

I stared at her for a moment and then almost fell over laughing.

It wasn't until she thumped me in the ribs and called me a jerk that I was able to get control of myself. “Must have been 2-fer-1 chili special,” I quipped and started laughing again. It was another moment or two before I could explain my encounter with the bus driver.

Dana didn't seem very amused.