Riddle School: The Retelling

Chapter Two (RS2)

Phil took a glance around the music room, his tired eyes drooping. He figured it wouldn't hurt to take a short nap, while nobody's even doing anything. He laid his head on the music stand in front of him, and closed his eyes just for a second...

Only to wake up suddenly as the stand, and him, came crashing to the ground faster than he could react.

'Ah, let's hope no one noticed that'

Phil stole a few glances around the room, from the complicated-looking drum set, to the chalkboard with the non-musical truth, to his band director Mr. O. Boe (only hires because of his name), to a very strange poster on the wall, to his fellow inmates/friends.

His friends, of course being the happy-go-lucky Smiley, Zack, who for as cold as he was never wore more than one sweater, and to his very lazy but helpful friend Phred.

"Hey Phred," Phil whispered, trying not to draw anymore attention to himself. "Can you help me escape school again?"

Phred looked at him with a casual glance. "I have a whistle, as if that'd be useful."

"It might help," Phil decided. "Can I have it?"

"Only if you have a dollar." Dang it Phred. 'Helpful friend indeed.' Well, at least there were always a bit of change sprinkled around the room. Kids these days could never hold onto their money!

So Phil went on his admittedly short quest to acquire enough change to assist his escape. Man, escaping was becoming a habit of his.

"Here's my whistle for that dollar you've got there," said Phred as he tossed over his musical instrument in exchange for Phil's change. "I don't actually use it anyway."

'Then why couldn't I just have it?? Whatever. Let's see if I blow this whistle loud enough, it'll get me kicked out of class!'

A very shrill sound later, and everyone, besides Phil, was collapsed on the floor. Zack was even frozen solid!

"Here's your whistle back, Phred." Phil gently placed the whistle in Phred's still fingers. "I don't really feel like stealing music from you at the moment."

Finally, sweet freedom!

...From the band room at least. ("Now that was a sharp idea!)

And of course he couldn't get out through the doors yet. ("I can't believe I just said that...")

"I'll bet the counselor at this school has the keys. All I need to do is get to his office, grab the keys, and make my escape." He faltered. "Obviously this is easier said than done." He faltered again. "...Unless, of course you are mute..."

Phil could see that Chubb, wearing his classic 'feed me' t-shirt was blocking the office door, once again. Unlike last time, Chubb would not accept a dollar. Only a cookie as payment. Now Phil wasn't quite sure, but the teacher's lounge may have a cookie dispenser he could get the previous treat from. He decided to step into the lounge to test his luck with any teachers that may be guarding the treasure.

Yikes. Ms. Green and Mr. Sum were sitting on the sofa. At the sound of the door creaking open, Ms. Green shrieked, "WHAT are you doing here?!"

"Uh, Oops! Wrong room!" Phil panicked. He left the room quickly, in order not to get called out for not being in class. The two teachers filed out the room, so Phil ducked behind Chubb to avoid being detected. When the teachers finished walking back to their classrooms, Phil slyly snuck into the teacher's lounge once again.

The scenery brought back memories of old, but Phil was only here for the cookie machine. It appeared to be non-function, so he checked all around it for someway to jumpstart it, or something. Ah-ha! It was simply unplugged. Alas, he needed 75 cents to actually get a cookie, so off he was on his quest to scrounge up the appropriate amount it cash.

He followed his tradition(?) of flicking open unlocked lockers in the hope of finding change. Yes! Only 10 cents though. Next step was to go through each of the rooms to get more money.

The men's room had nothing in the first stall or sink, and the second stall was being used by someone who didn't have any toilet paper. That wasn't really Phil's problem, but then again, maybe the guy would give him a coin or two for helping him out.

Of course, going in the women's restroom wouldn't be the place to go, he turned towards Ms. Green's room. Wow. How had he not known how green this room was? Anyway, there was no change here to be found. On to Mr. Sum's room!

"Have a nice visit while you're here," Mr. Sum said disapprovingly, "and hurry back to class when your finished." Oops. Apparently Phil was not quite as welcome here. He  picked up 25 cents and skedaddled onto the next room, last the unwelcoming janitor, and into Mrs. Sleep's classroom.

She was, unsurprisingly, asleep, so Phil decided to take along some of his desk's contents, as if his trombone's slidy oil would somehow help? And 30 cents, which he actually could think of a use for.

He eyed the vent in the corner of the room and tho if he back to the vent near Chubb. It was closer to the ground, so maybe a student would have put some change in there for him to snatch up. He only needed... counting 30+25+10... ('I can't believe I actually learned something in school.') 10 cents left! Phil made his way to the office and checked in the vent, hoping for that last dime, only to find... a roll of toilet paper?

"Who sticks toilet paper in vents?!" He exasperated to anyone listening, which in this situation, happened to be Chubb. 'And wait...' "The vent cover is rusted shut." 'How longs go did someone put toilet paper in this vent if the cover is freaking rusted shut?!' Ah, whatever not his problem. Actually, it was sorta his problem if he wanted to help that poor kid in the bathroom.

Trombone slidy oil to the rescue! Phil made his way to the bathroom and tossed the paper over the occupied stall door. After a few seconds, a yellow-shirted boy rushed past Phil, quickly washed his hands, and made his way out without even a 'Thank you.'

"You're welcome." Phil called after him, half-heartily offended. There was a mop in the stall that most likely belonged to the janitor. Maybe he'll be appreciative and give a prize for helping locate the mop!

"Where'd you find my mop!?" The excitable janitor said when Phil handed over the cleaning device. "I've been looking all over for it!" Phil would've had said where, but he was interrupted. "Thanks for returning it. Here's my last dime." He looked angry for a second. "...And don't waste it in the school's cheesy pencils." Oh thank goodness.

Now he was home free. He dashed over to the teacher's lounge, popped the coins into the cookie machine, and acquired his treasure, which for some reason, wasn't pre-packaged. Again, not his problem.

He sauntered over to Chubb, tossed the cookie to the side, and watched as Chubb fell over in excitement over the precious sweet. He could finally get into the office.

5, a fellow classmate of Phil's, was seemingly sleeping in a chair in the lobby, below a smiley face sign. What strange decor. Phil turned to Mr. Mister's office, in anticipation.

Uh oh. Mr. Mister was looking straight at him. The key was simply laying on the desk in between them. Maybe Phil should just grab it and run. Impulse won out of common sense, so he grabbed, yelled, "I'm keeping this!" And bolted out of the room. As he left, he heard the guidance counselor say "I think he took the key," but that was of no consequence to him.

Phil walked down the hallway triumphantly. (He was so close to escaping! He didn't want to get in trouble for running down the hallway, out of all things.) He came to the entrance to the school, took the key in his hands, and unlocked the front door.

The sunlight washed over him, and as he caught sight of the almost clear blue sky and the vibrant green grass, he he grinned happily.

Finally, freedom.