Free Take Two! by John J. Bonk

a hardhead! The Arts Committee had already turned down her stupid petition and announced we were definitely
     doing
Oliver!
Talk about pushy
. She finished by belting out the song “Tomorrow” and sliding into the splits; then she asked the casting people if they wanted
     to hear a ballad that showed off her soprano range. It sounded like a unanimous “no,” but Darlene, being Darlene, launched
     right into, “The hills are alive with the sound of –”
    “You suck!”
    Someone had shouted it from the back of the house.
    Man
, I thought,
tough crowd
.
    Darlene stopped singing. There was a door slam; a loud commotion. Silence.
    “What’s going on out there?” Stewy asked me, all wide-eyed and fidgety. “What’s happening?”
    “Got me.”
    I peeked around the black curtains with the other auditioners trying to see what the deal was in the auditorium. Finally Darlene
     stomped passed us, complaining, “Some juvenile delinquent’s out there yelling stuff! Gawd, this is so unprofessional.”
    Hopefully the heckler wouldn’t be back during my five-minute time slot!
    “You did awesome, Dar,” Maggie gushed as Miss Van Rye rushed her out onto the stage next. When I heard her lyrics about “washing
     that man right outta my hair” being sung over and over, I got a sudden urge to go to the bathroom. Sudden and severe. I motioned
     to Miss Van Rye, who came trotting over. She seemed on edge.
    “May I take a time-out for a potty break? It’s just number one. I’ll be quick as a bunny.” You have to appeal to kindergarten
     teachers on their level.
    “Oh, hon, you’re up after Stewart. With that disruption we’ve lost precious time, and I just want to keep things flowing.”
    Flowing – yeow!
    “Is it an emergency or do you think you can brave it out?” she asked, her eyes penetrating mine. “The drama teachers from
     Fenton High are out there and I don’t want to make waves.”
    Waves – eesh!
    “I can suck it up, I guess.”
    “That’s my little trouper.”
    I was going over my song lyrics in my head to get my mind off all things H 2 O. Stewy was up next. Someone from the back of the line yelled, “Good luck, squirt.”
Squirt – ooh!
But when he opened his mouth to sing, he was interrupted by more distant taunts and door slamming.
    “Geeks!” “Nerds!” “Losers!” “Turds!”
    “If I catch you boys, I’ll see to it that you’re suspended for life!” Futterman bellowed from somewhere in the auditorium.
    From the wings poor Stewy looked so worked up I thought they were going to have to call in the paramedics. He attempted his
     song a second and third time, but kept screwing up the lyrics. In the meantime, my teeth were floating, like Granny says,
     and I had to bounce up and down to keep my sprinkler system from going off.
    “Stewart, sweetie, just relax,” Miss Honeywell said from the center of the house in her soothing Southern twang. “You’re getting
     all flustered, bless your heart. Principal Futterman’staking care of things right now, so we won’t have any more rude interruptions.”
    “Uh, maybe this was a mistake,” Stewy said, inching toward the wings.
    “No, you’re doing great, pum’kin. Maybe try singing something you’re more familiar with, like – oh, I don’t know – ‘Happy
     Birthday’ or ‘Row, Row, Row Your Boat.’”
    No boats!
    I tried to stick it out, but when he got to “gently down the stream,” I had to haul butt swiftly down the hall – to the john.
     My bladder was about to splatter!
Thanks for the great advice, Pop
. My heart was thumping like a bass drum as I push-push-pushed to answer nature’s call.
    On my way out of the bathroom I caught a glimpse of Zack, Tyler, and Pig tearing up the back steps. Talk about a triple threat!
     They were obviously the meatheads yelling stuff, which came as no surprise. But I wasn’t going to rat on them, because Zack
     already hated my guts and I didn’t want the whole basketball team out to get