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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Six Little Dairy Maids, All in a Row"  The video opens with some cheesy spinning effects, then dissolves to two guys sitting in front of a beige wall. They look familiar -- you've had them in class but you can't immediately place their names. No worries, because they quickly introduce themselves. "Hey all you guys out there in internet land," says the sandy-haired kid with the faux-hawk and the tomato-colored face. He points to the other. "He's Carlos." "And he's Mike," says his Hispanic friend. He too has his hair spiked, and his aquamarine t-shirt binds itself tightly to his pecs and shoulders. "And together we are -- " They touch fists, and pause. "Who did we say we were going to be, again?" Mike asks as Carlos cracks up. "Mighty Morphin' ... Wonder Twins?" "Oh, jeez." Carlos slouches in his chair, giggling, and wipes an eye. "It's going to be one of those shows." "Who are these fucks?" you ask. "Mike and Carlos. Weren't you listening?" "They go to our school?" Caleb squints back at you. "We have them in fourth-period English." "Oh." You snap your fingers. "Right." They've recovered their composure by now, and you shut up just in time to hear Carlos say that on this episode they'll be talking about The Fly with Jeff Goldblum -- a movie about a scientist who transforms himself into a hideous mutant insect with all kinds of goopy, skin-peeling results. "Oh hey, that sounds like that could be good," you say. "Is there a trailer? When's it coming out?" That gets you another glare. "Nineteen eight-five. Or six. It came out thirty years ago, Will." "So why are they -- ?" "It's a move re-review show. Or something. Aren't you taking a 'Film as Literature' class this semester?" "Pft. Yeah. But what's that got to do with -- " "It's like that, Prescott. They talk about old classic movies." You roll your eyes and hop back on the bed, to slouch against the headboard and watch the laptop from under half-closed lids. "And you know these guys?" "I've talked to them. They've got, like, a couple of dozen videos done already." "Huh. So I guess these are Tilley's peeps." "His what? Never mind, let's just watch this." So you do. It's silly, amateurish, boring, and you concentrate more at picking at the hole in the knee of your jeans than at their movie talk. Keith's cameo comes at the very end, though you wouldn't know it was him if you didn't recognize the t-shirt. He comes dancing into the background while wearing a gorilla mask, which sparks some not-at-all funny fake screaming and running away by the hosts, and the video ends with Tilley putting his masked face into the camera and making a kind of muffled roar. "Well, that was dumb," you say. "Meh," says Caleb as he closes the window. "At least it made me wanna stream the movie." "You wanna do that tomorrow?" "Only if we do at your house and you pay for it." You shrug and change the subject. * * * * * Later that evening, in your bedroom, you decide it would at least be polite if you told Keith that you'd watched the video with Caleb. saw ur video with mike n carlos, you text him. preety good, you lie. thx, he replies a few minutes later. planstmorow? It takes you a minute to decipher that last word. watching the fly w caleb probly cool! nvr seen it myself, carl n mkie make it sound good u want to come over too? cant plans w peeps again Well, good for Tilley, you suppose. You wish him a good night and weekend, and close your phone. To be truthful, though, the discovery that Keith has a batch of friends that doesn't overlap with you and Caleb -- that you barely know of or about, even -- leaves you feeling equivocal. On the one hand, it means that you don't have to feel guilty when you make plans without him -- which, now that you think about it, is something it seems like you're constantly doing. On the other hand, you can't help wondering if Keith has been keeping you at arm's length from Carlos and Mike because ... maybe Keith thinks you're kind of lame? Or he thinks they might think that you're lame? Though how you could be lamer than a couple of dipshits who spend their weekends making amateur movie review videos for YouTube, you can't imagine. * * * * * On Sunday afternoon Caleb comes over and you stream that movie. The special effects are kind of dated, and it's slower than you'd like, but it's a pretty good movie, and when you and Caleb watch the Mike-and-Carlos show again you're more interested in what they have to say about it. They make a couple of smart points about it, and you feel a little more impressed with them, even if the Keith-in-a-gorilla-mask gag still makes you cringe. "Yeah, I subscribed to their channel," says Carson Ioeger when you catch up to him Monday morning before school. You'd spotted him lurking in the small quad in front of the gym, leaning against the wall of the school theater, and had loped over to say hi and to bullshit about the weekend. "We're talking about Hollister and Montoya, right?" "Mike and Carlos. Blonde guy and a Hispanic guy?" "That's them." Carson nods, and continues to stare past your ear at something behind you. "Not that I watch their videos, but I subscribed to them as a favor. I think they're trying to make a business of it, and if they can make something of it without me having to give them money, we'll all be happy as pigs in shit, amiright?" "I guess." It hadn't occurred to you that maybe you should subscribe to their YouTube channel as a courtesy. "So that was the high point of my weekend. How was yours? You get that thing done?" "What thing?" Quick as a mongoose, Carson fixes a sharp look at you. "The thing you were doing when I called Saturday. Chemistry, you said." "Oh. That. Yeah." He goes back to staring at the entrance to the gym. "Fucked things up a little because someone doesn't know how to write clear instructions. But we're on track again." "You didn't blow anything up, did you?" "No, we didn't blow anything up, Prescott," Carson sneers. "Just made a stink is all. James's mom kicked us out of the house." He glances around the quad with an uneasy expression. "We need to find a workroom, or something," he mutters. You're about to ask him why he needs a workroom, when he clutches you by the shoulders and pushes you gently to one side. "I'd love to stay and tell you all about it -- eh, not really -- but I see somebody I have to talk to now." He snatches up his backpack and flies across the quad toward the gym. James Lamont has just come out, and he and Carson are soon in quick excited conference as they dart through the breezeway back toward the student parking lot. It must be some new scheme they're cooking up to torture the basketball squad. * * * * * "Yeah, that was my idea," Keith says when you see him second period. Which -- as it happens -- is the Film as Literature class. He's got his nose proudly in the air and slouches wearily with one arm over the back of his chair. "I was all, like, that's the movie where the guy winds up with the head of a fly, isn't it? And I didn't have a mask like of a fly or anything, but I still had that old gorilla mask from that Halloween in -- Was that when we were in seventh grade or eighth?" His brow furrows. "That year me and you helped run the 'haunted house' -- " He makes air quotes around the phrase. "For the elementary school? Remember, I put on pajamas and that gorilla mask and called myself Tae Kwan Kong and scared that second-grade girl into pissing herself?" "I don't remember." And you don't, not clearly, thanks to a massive exertion of willed amnesia. "But yeah, now that you mention it, I can totally see how you came up with that idea on your own." "Word that," says Keith. "And I was, like, telling them they should add a puppet character, and he could be their third, and I could be the puppeteer. Or muppeteer. Is that what they call them?" You shoot a quick glance up at the front of the room, to see if Mr. Hawks is finally ready to start class. " -- be like their smart-aleck sidekick. I'd have to come up with a catchphrase," he adds thoughtfully. "Sounds dope," you offer. "So word," agrees Keith, and he bobs his head gravely. You turn around so he won't see you rolling your eyes. But a moment later a bony finger jabs you in the shoulder blade. "You thinkin' about, like, tryin' to get in on this too?" Keith asks. "Get in on what?" "What Mike and Carlos are doing. Their thing, their scene?" "You mean like making YouTube videos?" Keith snorts. "What would you make videos about? No, I mean, like me. Like, how I showed up in their last video. That." You blink at him. "Are you worried I'm going to take a gig away from you?" "No," he mumbles. "Not like that. But it's like you're making a big thing out of it, like you kind of want in on it." You're about to tell him that you didn't think you were making a big thing about anything, but that's when Mr. Hawks coughs, and in his bass-fiddle drawl calls the class to order. * * * * * Third period you have the bullshit "Career Planning" class, and today Jeff Spencer and Nicholas Horner disgrace it with their presence. They're only a few seats over, and when they catch you eavesdropping on them they start whispering obscenities at you. "You wanna fuck yourself, man? Want some help fucking yourself? Wanna lick my balls?" And so on. Then it's English, and the first thing you do is glance into the corner where Mike and Carlos are sitting. * To continue: "When the Bullies Come Out to Play" |
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