Ferris Bueller Shorts

When Cameron Broke His Retainer

"Okay, so my dad has a million rules and if you don't follow them, you can never come back here," a sophomore Cameron spoke as he guided Ferris through his house like a tour guide in a museum. "Rule one: Don't change the thermostat. He'll kill all of us. Rule two: lights out at eleven. Rule three-"

"Why are there so many rules?" Ferris asked with a groan, reaching his hand out to touch some fancy-looking glass artwork on a pedestal in the living room.

Cameron screeched and smacked his hand away. "RULE THREE: DON'T TOUCH THE THINGS ON PEDESTALS. They're worth a bunch of money and if I break any of them, I'm grounded for a year. And that's not an understatement," Cameron said. Ferris rolled his eyes.

"Rule four: no roughhousing. That includes jumping, kicking, yelling, wrestling, mixed martial arts, pillow fights, screaming, dancing, punching, speaking above a whisper-"

"I'm so bored, let's just go to your room," Ferris announced.

Cameron led Ferris up the stairs to his bedroom which was as empty and drab as Ferris expected it to be. Cameron's bedspread was gray. His walls were a beige color. He had a phone and answering machine on the same bedside table as a retainer case and a couple of clarinet reeds. And those were the exciting things. Cameron was laughably dull.

"Cameron, your room sucks. You need some posters or something," Ferris said.

"Rule five: No putting holes in walls for ANY reason."

"You could tape them up there," Ferris suggested. "Just like a nice poster of Farrah Fawcett... right over there," he said, pointing to a blank space of wall.

"Rule six: No adult content. She's not even an option, man," Cameron sighed.

"Okay, okay, what ARE you allowed to do?" Ferris asked, looking around the monochromatic room. His eyes fell on Cameron's trashcan, which was full to the brim with used tissues. "God, Cameron, gross! I didn't need to witness this!" Ferris yelled.

"Rule four!" Cameron whisper-yelled at Ferris to remind him to keep his voice down. "And what are you talking about?"

"Um, your goddamn trashcan," Ferris laughed in amazement.

"My..? Oh god, no!" Cameron shouted as his gaze fell to where Ferris' was.

Ferris watched Cameron's face go red as he tried to explain himself.

"No, no, I just have allergies! It's not what you think! I promise! I'm not like that!" Cameron blabbered in a loud voice. "I'm just always sick!"

"Yeah, sick in the brain," Ferris snickered, happy to make Cameron embarrassed for no reason other than a hilarious misunderstanding.

Just then, the door flew open. "CAMERON, WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT RULE FOUR?" Cameron's dad shouted, which Ferris thought was ironic and stupid.

Ferris had jumped only slightly, but Cameron - poor Cameron - had jumped enough to bump into his bedside table, knock half of the things on it to the floor, and then trip over it all. He landed on his knees, looking very pained.

"CAMERON, GET UP," his father commanded. Cameron's father couldn't seem to talk below shouting like a gym teacher level.

Cameron winced and pulled himself up by holding on to the bedframe. His face fell, however, when he noticed that he'd fallen on his retainer case, and there, all over his knees and the boring, uncarpeted wood flooring, were bits of plastic.

"Oh, man...," Cameron mumbled. His dad promptly lost his marbles.

"CAMERON! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WERE TOO LAZY TO PUT THAT SOMEWHERE WHERE THIS WOULDN'T HAPPEN! I THOUGHT I RAISED YOU RIGHT!" He screamed. Ferris tried to tune it out, feeling super awkward.

"TOMORROW I AM DRIVING YOU TO THE GODDAMN ORTHODONTIST AND YOU ARE GOING TO EXPLAIN HOW YOU BROKE IT AND THEN PAY FOR IT YOURSELF," he finished, slamming the door behind him.

Ferris blinked. Cameron let out a long breath, feeling awkward knowing that Ferris had been there for his dad's intense screamfest.

"Wanna.. uh.. go get ice cream?" Ferris asked after a moment of silence.

"Yes. Please."

"How about 31 Flavors?"

"Sounds good to me."