The Bad Boys' Soft Boys' Lonely Hearts Club - The Full Package

The Finale...Or Is It?

It takes only one tweet to set the mob back in victory as three borderline sociopath kids get their wish. That's us, by the way. We are the sociopaths. I'm not proud of what we just did, but it was a necessary evil. Sue me.

Lee slumps over the table while rubbing her temples with her knuckles with her glasses on the table. "Just give me the damn form and let's get over with." 

Hayden puts it in front of her with a flourish. "With pleasure." 

She grabs her glasses and the paper and gives them a once-over. Then, she laughs. And laughs again. And again. By now, it probably borders on fetishism, but she still laughs. She makes the same face she did while pounding her phone, but with tears rolling down her cheeks now. 

"All this hoopla, for this? Seriously? Get the fuck away from me!" she says. To punctuate her feelings, she balls the thing and makes a three-pointer right against Hayden's face. 

"What the hell, sis?" says Hayden. "Everything's in order, isn't it?" 

"The hell it is! All you did is put the name of the club and your name in it! And 'Cool Club For Cool Dudes' is not an acceptable name for a school club. Look on the back." 

I grab the ball of paper and open it up. There was nothing unusual on the front. But in the back, there is a list. 

Goal and statement of the club.

Cultural activities of the club.

Club booth for festival A. 

Tentative Budget for festival A. 

Quarterly Budget. 

Full Year Budget. 

And so on, and so on. 

"See that? You have to fill in all that, then you can apply. I'm afraid we cannot, this time, accept your application."

Hayden, you stupid man-bitch. Defeated by bureaucracy. Our hubris!

"hey, at least it wasn't me who fucked up," says Brayden. "we could try to cancel her again."

Nah, that wouldn't work. This was our fault, plain and simple. 

"Can you give us more time?" I ask, knowing the answer. 

"Yes, of course," says Lee with a sweet smile. 

"Really?"

"No. Of course not," she corrects. "We have to go over the budgets of all the clubs, and do some whole other boring stuff. We can't wait and accommodate you three and halt an entire operation for you to turn something half-assed. Be serious, or go home. So please, if there is nothing else to discuss, please go a...yes?" 

There, peeking just beyond the door, is a cloaked figure, with thick-rimmed glasses, a scarf that flows down to the ground, and a thick trench coat. Okayden, in the flesh. 

He opens the door and enters skittishly — as much as his animalistic body allows him to be at least — and makes his way toward Lee. 

"Yes? Can I help you?" asks Lee. 

Okayden barely opens his trenchcoat and produces a thick binder, which he plops down on the table with a thud. 

"I seek assistance,
In forming a club, you see,
It is all in there." 

She opens the binder, all the while never taking her eyes off him, until her eyes get caught in the name of the club. 

"The Hill Valley Mountain Woods Feet Appreciation Society? Are you serious?"