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Disclaimer: Don't own Star Wars, blah, blah, blah you get the picture.

A/N: The character GT is based on fanfic writer Vegesa: SSJ Jedi Knight, my friend from school.

ON WITH THE INSANITY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"Girls are you doing homework in my homeroom?"

GT and I looked up from our Social homework that we were hoping to finish sometime before first period.

"Are you COPYING?!!!" He yelled.

"No, I'm uh- using examples from my answers to help her find her answers." I explained. Technically we were copying, but to hell with the truth right now.

"GIVE THAT TO ME NOW!!!!!!!!!!" He yelled. His face turns a funny shade of purple when he's mad.

GT and me reluctantly forked over our beautiful homework. Mr. Roszie stormed over to his desk and crammed our homewrok in a drawer. He began pounding on his computer. Probably making another pop quiz. The evil bastard.

"Gee, who pissed in his cornflakes this morning?" GT muttered.

I slapped a hand over my mouth to stop from bursting out laughing, earning another glare from Roszie. As soon as he looked back at hisd computer, I 'innocently' stuck up my finger. I'm sure you all know which one it was.

The bell rang, signalling the end of homeroom, and the begginning of Social. "we are going to die." stated GT.

For once I kept my sarcastic comments to myself.

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We were sitting in Social, just waiting for Mr. S to swoop down and peck our eyes out.

He stood up. "Become one with the chair, become one with the chair," I muttered in an attempt to turn invisible. It didn't work.

"Okay, good news bad news time." Mr S began. "Those of you who did the homework, you wasted your time. The good news is that the homework isn't due today."

I'm suprised that GT and I didn't start a tornado with all the held breath we let out.

Mr S began giving us a presentation on how to do presentations. Naturally, GT and me zoned out completely. "Psssst...GT!" I whispered

"Ya?"

"What's Boba Fett's phone number?" I asked.

"Wtf are you smoking?"

"Ha f***in ha!" I whispered. "We should hire him to umm...dispose of Roszie."

GT was obviously thinking of screaming and running the hell away from me. "Umm...460-7942." She answered, making up a random number.

"Really?" I asked.

"What the hell do you think? Of course not!"

"Oh. Crap."

"I said it before and I'll say it again. Wtf are you smoking?"

"I said it before and I'll say it again. Ha f***in ha!"

"You're psyco!" GT attempted to insult.

"Aw, thanks." I returned, actually sincerely, for a change. "Hey! I wonder what would happenm if we called that number?" I wondered.

" Knowing our luck, some old lady would pick up the phone, have caller ID, and send the mental institution to whereever we were." GT answered.

"Oh. What if we used a pay phone and ran like hell?"

"Oooh...Good Idea." GT complemented.

"Thanks. Wtf are we supposed to be doing?" I asked.

"Who cares?" GT answered.

"Good point."

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Ya, ya, that's only the first chapter. There's lots more. In the meantime, review this.

Pleeeeeeeeeeease?