Phil K Swift and the Neighborhood Street Rockers by Philip Kochan - HTML preview

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Chapter 7

Do you know what rocks? My bus usually got to school fifteen minutes early every morning. There were a few of us that scurried in a hurry to the hallways located by the woodshop classroom. A few of us cool cats would get our breakin’ goin’ there before school started on most mornings. On my way to the woodshop classroom hallway, (aka the hip hop hallway by us breakers) I passed by Big Ted’s locker, (the gum salesman – and whatnot) I usually didn’t see him until after I had been breakin’ in the hip hop hallway and I was on my way to class.

This one morning he was bright and early for a change, but I’m sure it had nothing to do with a desire to learn at school. He wasn’t that kind of a guy. His locker was opened wide that morning and I remember this morning because it was the first time I had noticed his locker speakers were gold. My locker was just a locker – boring. However, Ted’s locker had speakers, a mirror that was taped onto the locker door with pink duct tape, and a selection of cologne bottles on his top shelf.

I sort of started to dance a little as I passed by him. Ted was fixing his hair and spraying on cologne from a black bottle, while throwing me a head nod and an eye brow raise, but when I said “Hey” he acted as if he didn’t even hear me. Save for another eye brow raise that may or may not have been intended for me.

“Nasty girls,” by Vanity was playing quietly from his battery operated speakers that sat on his top shelf of his locker right next to the cologne bottles. It was the shelf where most people would put their books - but I never saw Ted with any books. He was one of those kids that had managed to go to school the entire day and never crack open a book. Ted didn’t appear to have any books in his locker either, not even on the bottom of the locker, save for a stack of Playboy and Hustler magazines.

After that day, I passed by his locker at least 10 times per week and he would always have something jamming from his locker speakers in between periods or before school or after school; Rick James, Prince, Michael Jackson, Madonna and stuff like that. They were jams I had always heard at the rink but he played the more soulful disco of the rink jams, which attracted some of the hotter girls from our school around his locker (that were also rink girls.)

It’s not that Big Ted was a smooth talking Romeo or anything, but he did play the cool jams at his locker. Suzy Sukzslautz and Betty Opinlager were practically permanent fixtures at Ted’s locker in the mornings and they always dressed “slutty” – not that any of us guys minded. But the way they dressed had really given them a bad rep. I suppose that’s why I always took the long way to get to the hip hop hallway so I could pass by his locker and grab a gawk at them for that rare occasion that Ted, Suzy, and Betty would be early. It’s funny how hot chicks can make us guys take a totally different route somewhere. They really can, I mean, check this out:

One time, my buddy Johnny Schott, who we called Johnny on the spot, always rode his bike home from school, but this one day; he had to take a different route home because they were paving the streets. On that different route, he got lucky and caught a glimpse of some lady changing her bra in her window of her house. From that day on, Johnny on the spot took that new route home, even after they had finished paving the streets, even though it was an extra ten minutes out of his way.

He never saw that lady again, but he kept taking that route anyway, hoping that one day he might get another gawk at her boobies. The poor kid rode his bike and extra ten minutes there and an extra ten minutes back every day for months, just in hopes to see “two seconds worth of boobies” from far away again. Last time I asked him, he still hadn’t seen her again, but he was still riding his bike ten minutes out of his way every morning and every afternoon in hopes of seeing those hooters just one last time.

Anyway, after I passed by Big Teds locker, I could see down the hallway that Dustin, Isaac, and Hazy were already there getting on down in the hip hop hallway. One of them, I couldn’t tell whom yet, was bouncing around off of the walls – Literally. Have you ever seen someone run up a wall and then do a back flip as his or her feet get to head high on the wall? As I drew more near, I saw that it was Dustin. Dustin had just nailed that maneuver. And he was setting up to do it again.

The ACA Collective, that’s what they called themselves; The African, Caucasian, and Asian collective. They were a crew before Brock and I were technically a crew, so I never really thought about bringing them aboard to our crew to be honest with you. They seemed kind of clique-ee once in a while, so I really didn’t want them on our crew anyway. It was obvious that I was some sort of an outsider to them, but we were still cool, just not best of buddies, that’s all - you dig?

Isaac, screamed quietly, “Sup Boyeeeee Swifty?”

I high fived his outstretched hand and said, “Wazup?”

Dustin had just finished with his wall flip and said, “How goes it?”

Then Hazy jumped down onto his hands and did his signature move - the crabwalk, which were pretty tight and fast, if you asked me. “Impressive Hazy my man, Impressive,” I said. He had really come a long way since that day he had first showed me.

Hazy jumped up and smiled at me mysteriously then looked at Dustin and said, “Should I tell him? …  Should I? … Should I?” He said it in a taunting sort of way too, which made me nervous. I even checked my fly after his wry smile. He made me feel like my ding a ling was hanging out or something. I literally checked, but no, my fly was up.

“Sup dude? Wazza dilly o?” I asked.

Dustin and Hazy were now smirking like dogs with bones. Hazy told me, “You know that new guy, Devon at our school?”

I shook my head yes, “I eat lunch with him sometimes of course I know him.”

Hazy continued, “Well your lunch buddy was just over here five minutes ago. He was looking for you. He said he wants to battle you!” Hazy bulged his eyes like a madman and grinned with taunt, probably just to freak me out, I figured. “He thinks you are getting too big for your britches.”

“Battle me?” I said with surprise.

Hazy then condescendingly said, “Yay, in a break dance battle, silly.”

“Well I figured that, but that’s cool, I’ll battle anybody, I’m just surprised he’s getting all like that – we’re friends and such. Why didn’t he just come up to me and try to battle,” I said as I tried to act nonchalant.

Dustin chimed in, “He heard you had won that break dance competition a couple of weeks ago.”

“Of course he heard about it, I told him about it,” I said with some sarcasm of my own.

“ … Hey, over the weekend - Did you go to the mall?” Dustin asked.

“Yep, I went there Sunday with my P’s, they hooked me up with these sweet new shoes,” I said as I showed them my new gray suede-ed out break shoes with thick fat laces to boot.

Hazy jumped back into the confab, “Well I guess when you were at the mall you were bragging to somebody about how you’re some champion breaker and you think you can whip anybodies ass now, and through the grapevine, Devon had heard about it. So he said, he wants to put you in your place. You’re getting too big for your britches, was the way he had said it,” Hazy said as he grinned tightly with beady eyes just to send chills down my spine.

“I wasn’t bragging to anybody at the mall,” I said, and then I thought about it, “I did tell the shoe salesgirl and the cashier at the shoe store that I was just in a break-dance contest two weeks ago and that my boy Blazin' and I took second place. But the only reason I even brought it up was because they asked me if I was a breaker, on account I was buying fat laces for the shoes.”

Hazy tauntingly jumped back in and said, “Either way Devon is looking for you.” Then he smiled and smacked his fists in a way that shivered my timbers. It’s not that I was afraid of battling anybody, but the way he had said it, made it sound like the biggest kid in the school wanted to kick my ass. At least that was the vibe that I was feeling at that time.

“Well, I’m right here, If Devon wants a battle he’s got one. It izzz on … On like Donkey Kong,” I said boldly, even though I was kind of nervous too.

The ACA Collective and I hung out for another five minutes or so, chatting, breakin’, and this and that and there was no sign of Devon. Funny thing was - Devon knew where we hung out and what time we’d be there. He’d seen us there in the mornings breakin’ many times and had even joined in on the fun; he knew where to find me.

The final warning bell had rung, giving me two minutes to walk briskly to my first period class. I passed by Big Ted’s locker who wasn’t there, which had made that hallway seem so empty. It’s funny how boring that section of hallway was when he was not around playing his locker music.

It was thirty seconds on the clock when I was just about to walk into my class when I saw Devon walking up to me, all cocky with swag and an extra bounce to his ounce as he got all up in my face.

 “Sup Devon!? … Hazy said you wanted to talk to me,” I said while sort of playing dumb at the same time. 

Devon zealously stared with boxers eyes just before a fight and said, “You think you’re all bad now, don’t ya Swifty?”

I stopped playing dumb and said, “Word is that you want to battle me my brother?”

Devon grunted, “Damn Straight!”

I told Devon, just so I could beat him to the punch, “Okay my man – meet me over by the shop classroom tomorrow morning.” He gave me a look of confusion, so I said, “The hip hop hallway - you know where I hang! We’ll battle in the morning before school.”

Devon scrunched his face and shivered his head as if he had just eaten a lemon and then in a deeper and louder voice said, “Lets battle right now.”

“I’ve got to get to class,” I said.

“Ohh, you’re yellow? So now I get it, you’re all yella!” Devon said with disdain.

“Yo dude, I just said I’d battle you tomorrow morning. I’m not a chicken my brother. I’m just trying to get to my class on time.” I started walking away because the red second hand told me that I had five seconds left to walk ten feet. I had already been late a couple of times last week because I had been getting all carried away and consumed with breakin’ every morning with the ACA Collective guys and such. The teacher had told me to start being on time or I’d get a detention.

I walked into my classroom as the bell had rung. I smiled at the teacher and the whole class and said, “Safe” as I put my arms out like an umpire calling someone safe at the plate in baseball. The teacher smiled and told me to take my seat. I could still hear Devon walking down the hallway muttering, “Yellow sissy boy,” or some other schlernious shiznit like that, that I couldn’t quite make out. But I could hear the contempt in his voice; THAT, I could hear loud and clear.

In fact the whole class had seemed to overhear the whole conversation between Devon and I, because when I sat down at my desk, my buddy that I had known since elementary school, Fred, asked me, “What was that all about with Devon?”

“Devon is challenging me to a one on one break battle; he thinks I’m getting all cocky now that I came in second place in that Big Burger contest a couple of weeks ago. I told Devon that the bell was about to ring so I’d battle him tomorrow but that wasn’t good enough for him,” I said.

Fred crinkled his nose and said, “So battle him tomorrow.”

“Oh yay fow show my man, for sure, I will battle him tomorrow … What is crazy though, is that I never even brag about second place. Second place means you lost, so I don’t know what the heck he is talking about,” I said.

Fred nodded and started getting his text book out and said, “You guys always sit together at lunch I don’t know why he’s trippin’?”

When first period was over Fred said, “Alright Phil, then I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early in the AM … Hey come to my locker first thing in the morning. I want to watch you and Devon battle.”

“Absolutely, I’ll come get you. I’ll be at your locker at 8:20am,” I said.

Fred nodded and told me okay and then we both walked together anyway, as we usually did after first period, since he wasn’t with Reeny (his girlfriend), who usually didn’t start walking the halls with Fred until after second period. From second period on: when you saw Fred, you would see Reeny, when you saw Reeny, you would see Fred. I bet you have those types of couples at your school too, don’t ya? - The ones that always seem to be together in between every class period. Sometimes I wonder how they do it?

While we were walking and talking about our weekend, we spotted this dude Rory Ragz heading towards the drinking fountain with a purpose, as if his pants were on fire, at least, that’s what Rorys eyes looked like. Isaac from the ACA Collective was already there slurping down the auga when he was suddenly interrupted by Rory.

This dude Rory had the exact same hair style that Michael Jackson had on the Album cover for, “Thriller.” I knew Rory because his forte was poppin’, just like Slim Jims forte was, and every once in a while Rory would show up at the hip hop hallway in the mornings to mess around with us. He was usually a pretty laid back brother but right then and there, Rory had this serious as a president talking about war look on his face as he got up in Isaacs space at the drinking fountain.

Rory poked his head over the drinking fountain and made his presence immediately known to Isaac, whose eyes widened as he picked his head up and stopped drinking. It was funny and serious all at once. Isaac had kept the handle pressed so the water kept flowing out and hitting his chin accidentally. I remembered thinking: why don’t you lift your head up another couple of inches or stop pressing the water lever so the water would stop hitting your chin. But he didn’t, he had the cleanest chin in school that day. I tried not to laugh because Rorys face was so serious but the water hitting his chin was hysterical.

Anyway Isaac looked up and said, “Would you like a drink?” Isaacs smile grew with incredulity as he started to read the facial expression on Rory’s face. Water continued to hit him on the chin while his eyes and facial expression said: why are you all up in my grill? Instead of getting angry or anything, Isaac just responded with a smile and said, “Can’t a guy get a drink around here?”

Rory then without saying a word started tyrannically Tickin’, pulsatingly poppin’, strenuously shakin’, and wiggling his wavy arms like a man on a mission. A poppin’ battle mission.

The fiercely powerful display of poppin’ and tickin’ along with the belligerent eyes from Rory said -show me what you’ve got Isaac!

A boogaloo battle was on.

Meanwhile Rory’s buddy Rodd Get down was laughing in the background and saying, “Oooooh, aint nobody going to match that.” Rodd was practically jumping up and down being Rory’s cheerleader and yelling the word, “dayg” repeatedly; I knew he was sayin’, “dang” but it sounded like dayg. Rodd kept antagonizing by saying stuff like, “That’s my dawg throwin’ down.” Or “You can’t touch that –cant even touch it.”

Rory still had not said a word just yet; he only spoke with his eyes and with his poppin’. But his pal Rodd was making up for his silence with his taunting snickers and taunts of, “OOhhh boy, he’s got you stuck. Isaac, he’s got you all stuck.”

Isaac finally jumped into the ring and busted out with some king tut poppin’ and some MJ and James Brown moon walking and such, but Isaac more or less conceded to Rory in his demeanor and in his comments, “Yeah man, Rory you’re good, that was cool man.” The poppin’ battle ended just as quickly as it had started. It was obvious that Isaac wasn’t really into it.

That was the thing about Isaac though; he was just a cool cat, just trying to have some fun with breakin’ and poppin’. He just wanted to entertain or have fun; he was not really a battle breaker like me. And really, at that point, he was just trying to get a drink of water.

The bell was going to ring in a minute or so, so everyone started to scamper. I heard Rodd spouting as we all sped walked away, “My boy Rory schooled Isaac, boy!”

As I walked on to my next class, I wondered if Rory and Devon were in cahoots and did they both plan to battle their counterparts that day as a pact. On the other hand, was it just something in the air that day, or was there a full moon that made them want to battle? I bet you Isaac would say it was something in the water.

I didn’t run into Devon the rest of the school day, which was odd since I usually saw him at lunch, even on the days that we didn’t sit at the same table, I still usually saw him in the cafeteria sitting at the black table. For whatever reason, the various ethnicities in our school, usually sat amongst themselves. But I took turns sitting wherever and with whomever on any given day; whatever their color, race, or preference, I didn’t care, I was friends with a variety of people.

When Devon or Fred weren’t around at lunch time, I sat with Gary and Gloria, who were a “couple” that were “dating” but everyone called them gay behind their backs. This gave our table the label as the “gay table” but actually I’m straight and I sat with them because they liked to listen to the DJ “mixes” just like I did, so really, we were the “mix music table” if you ask me.

The funniest thing about Gloria was that she would refer to herself as a “lipstick lesbian” yet she never wore lipstick. I really got a kick out of that. And she did too. However, she dolled her hair up and wore eye shadow and all of that stuff, just not lipstick. Anyway, that’s whom I sat with that day while I looked around for Devon. I kept waiting for him to show up at my lunch table and talk some more trash to me but he was nowhere to be found. But good ol Logan Gelderring made sure I wasn’t lonely. He was one of those dudes that made fun of Gary and Gloria to their faces. And he made fun of me because of where I sat sometimes. But he really didn’t have any room to talk.

Logan was one of the grossest dudes I had ever met. Every day, after he got done eating, he would take out his keys from his pocket and start picking his teeth. He would even walk around the cafeteria and pick his teeth with his keys while he talked to you.

“How’s life at the queer table?” Logan asked me while picking his teeth.

“Quit picking your teeth you gross jack ass …. How’s life at the chick table … Chick?” I asked him, since he sat with all girls that included his sister and her friends.

“Devon is going to take you out dude … it’s all over school that you’re yella,” Logan said.

“I told him I’d battle him tomorrow … aint nobody yella-fella, I said.

“Alright queer, we’ll see. - Devon’s from Chicago and you’re just a suburbanite, you don’t stand a chance,” he said.

“Buzz off homophobic Chick table Chick,” I said to get rid of him.

“Maybe I shouldn’t say anything about you and where you sit. I mean, Jesus sat with the leopards, so I guess you’re just being Christ-like for chrissake,” Logan said trying to be funny.

“Its leppers Mr. wisenheimer,” Gloria said.

“What? … It’s Gelderring,” Logan said.

“Jesus sat with the leppers … people with leprosy … not zoo animals,” she said, “and you are a wisenheimer; a first class wiseacre, Mr. Gelderring,” She added.

“Whatever,” Logan said, blowing it off as he walked away.

“As if people think it’s easy being gay,” Gloria said.

“I can’t stand him,” Gary said in a quiet sneer.

“Have you ever noticed how none of his sisters’ friends talk to him? No one likes him at his table,” I said to Gary and Gloria to try and quell that punks comments. Then we talked about me battling Devon the next day throughout the rest of lunch and ignored all of Logan’s teeth picking comments.

The school day came to an end. I headed straight home. I wolfed down dark chocolate, slammed a glass of water, while watching Tom and Jerry cartoons on the TV, and thought about the break battle against Devon for the next day. I don’t know what it is, but I swear, even when I become an adult, I will still watch the “Tom and Jerry” cartoon. And you can take that to the bank. They really floor me.

Later, I rearranged some of the furniture in my family room so I could practice my pennies, flares and crabwalks. I put, “Candy girl” by New Edition on the P’s stereo and kept Tom and Jerry playing in the background while I thought about what a punk Devon was for calling me chicken, when the fact of the matter was, the bell was seconds away from ringing. The thought of Devon calling me a chicken made me practice even harder though. When I felt like my arms were going to fall off, I kept going anyway. Finally the day had come and gone; another turn of the globe; another sunset and all that mattered was tomorrow morning.

The globe had spun enough for the bright celestial sphere to shine through my bedroom window, right into my orbits, beckoning my bones to arise for the pending break battle at school. The battle with Devon was the last thing I thought about when I went to sleep that night and it was the first thing I thought of when I woke up that morning.

On the bus ride to school a couple of people called out my name from the backseats. I was sitting in the middle of the bus and mentally preparing for the battle, when I looked back and saw, Jenny Quade and Jocy Rezza staring at me. Jocy said, “I heard you’re breakin’ against Devon Hornsby today.”

I asked her how she knew that and she told me, “It’s all over the whole school Mr. Phil K Swift the best breaker in the world,“ and by the way she had said that, I knew that the grapevine was alive and well at our school. Boy did she sound snotty – even though we were friends.

Then Jenny said, “I heard Rory schooled Isaac yesterday.” And even though Jenny had said it to Jocy, I jumped in and more or less stuck up for Isaac and said, “Isaac wasn’t really trying his best, he was just trying to have some fun. Rory was the one getting all serious.”

Then Jocy said,” Yay, I heard Rory totally took him out yesterday. Isaac just stood there all frozen … he was stuck.” Then they went back to talking amongst themselves before I could even reply. I mean, they never even gave me eye contact again. That’s really kind of annoying, if you really must hear me griping about it.

It got me to thinking about how I was going to be dealing with that same old crazy grapevine again, all day, after the battle was over. And I knew how the grapevine worked. Like this one time, this kid Timmy Leaf got dropped off by his mom, his mom kissed him goodbye but apparently whoever saw him, didn’t know it was his mom. By the end of the day it was all over the school that Timmy was dating a woman twice his age. He was in some real hot water with his girlfriend Tricia Johnson for a couple of periods until he could clear it all up with her.

I saw those two together the next day after the big rumor had already floated around the whole school. I assumed he must have cleared it up and everything. But you see, that is how the grapevine worked at our school. By the way, Tricia and he were cool again but the rumor that resurfaced the next week was that he had kissed his mom “French style” which gave him this very creepy image for a while – see how that grapevine worked at our school. … Gross as EFF.

When I got off the bus I hurriedly headed to Fred’s locker which was right next to the girls gym locker room door where Ms. Demimonde, who was the girls P.E. teacher, was always standing and waiting for her students to enter the locker room for gym class. Ms. Demimonde had butchy short dark black hair with gray swirls; a very, “Alice from the Brady Bunch” hairdo. She was a stout masculine looking woman that stared at girls as a kid would stare at candy. Talk about creepy.

 On two separate occasions, from two different girls that had Ms. Demimonde as a gym teacher, we heard that Ms. Demimonde made all of her students take showers after class. Then after all the girls were done with their showers, she would require them to go over by her, where she would then rub or feel every girls’ back individually, to make sure that their backs were wet,  to make sure that they had actually taken a shower. She said she wanted to make sure that they didn’t just walk through the shower line and not get wet. Or whatever her excuse was. Rather creepy, dontchya think? I guess she had never crossed the line enough for anyone to complain. However, you could tell that all of the girls who had her as a gym teacher were all thinking: What the EFF? But nobody had ever complained against her. But if you ask me, she had figured out a pretty sneaky way to cop a feel.

Most guys in our gym class didn’t even take showers. We just rubbed on the pit stick or sprayed on cologne, and were done with it. Taking showers at school was the kind of thing that could really mess a guy’s life up; because some guys were furry as all heck, like a monkey. And some boys didn’t have fur on their nuts just yet – not everybody hits puberty at the same time.

 Some of those furry bastards really liked to rub that crap in too. It really was pretty damn nuts that whether or not you had hairy nuts or bald nuts could spread your name around the school like the common cold. Speaking of “cold” let me tell you, you don’t want to see anybodies “nuts” when their cold – they shrink you know. It’s scientific in fact. When it’s cold out, the testes shrink in an effort to get closer to the body for warmth from one’s own body. Can you imagine telling the whole school why your nuts were so small and then answering everybody with that scientific answer? Even though its science, it still would get you razzed a whole bunch. 

Last thing a guy needs is to walk around in a cold locker room with shrunken nuts and a party wiener instead of the golf balls and hot dog that the guy would have had under the right temperatures. But that’s why most guys in my gym class would get a little testy when it came to disrobing, showering, and showing off the testes.

It’s just as bad for girls though. One girl I know, I won’t say her name, got caught stuffing her bra. And it was because of the whole required shower thing; when she got into the shower - her pears had became grapes; it was all over the school by the next day. But I didn’t care what people were saying about her. I still thought the girl was hot. She had a pretty face, really knew how to dress, and she was nice too. If a girl is nice and can dress nice, sometimes that’s enough. 

Anyway, Fred’s locker was right by the girls gym locker doors and that’s what threw me on that whole tangent, but now I’ll tell you what happened next. I saw Fred bouncing down the hallway, “Sappenin Phil – I take it you’re still battling Devon?” Fred said assumingly.

I boldly said, “You got that right, Fred; I’m going to show him Wazup!”

Fred opened his locker, grabbed his books while he laughed under his breath, and started shaking his head in disbelief. He quietly whispered, as he was trying not to be overheard yet he was still loud enough that I’m sure she could hear, “Mz. Overly-friendly is hanging out bright and early this morning, I see.” He was talking about Ms. Demimonde. He too thought this teacher was way too close to crossing the line with teenagers, so he always made wiseass comments around her.

Before I could respond, I could see in the shadows of the narrow corridor that led to our small gym, near where Fred and I were standing, that Devon was there. Virtually in unison we both said, “Is that Devon?” and then we both were certain of it just as soon as we had asked it. We both started walking towards Devon by the narrow section of Hallway.

Devon boldly yelled, “Oh I see you showed up Mr. Swift.” He didn’t waste any time starting the break battle either. He twisted and turned into some move that looked like maybe it was supposed to be a windmill or maybe it was a failed attempt at tracks or head glides (a move I had only heard about). I wasn’t sure because seconds into his maneuver his legs or maybe it was even his head had hit the lockers due to the very narrow section of hallway that he was breakin’ in.

I looked at the hallway and I tried to picture myself doing crabwalks or backspins or windmills, heck even head spins, which would take up the least amount of space, but the hallway was definitely too narrow to attempt anything. I looked at Devon’s expectant eyes and said, “Let’s take this over to the hip hop hallway where we will have more room.”

Devon fastuously exclaimed, “We’ll do it right here Swift boy!” He circled around the hallway with his arms spread apart to attempt to make room in the hallway that was now packed with students. The students were gathering around because some of them had gym class in the small gym for first period and some of them seemed to be gathering around because Devon was becoming rather boisterous. You know how students love a good fight? Devon’s tones sounded rather fight-like which really helped reel in the crowd - but he wasn’t trying to fight me, that was just how it probably sounded to the passersby.

“Come on Swift, you said you weren’t afraid to battle me and we have five minutes before the first period bell rings, show me what you’ve got Bo-aye,” he said trying to egg me on.

“Devon my man, you just hit your whole body against those lockers because this hallway is too narrow. Let’s take the one minute walk down the hall to the shop class and I’ll show you what is going on. I’m not afraid of you. We said yesterday that we would meet in the hip hop hallway, so let’s do what we said we were going to do,” I said.

Devon started spouting, “Ohhh okay! Okay! You are a chicken! That’s what’s up!”

I whispered In Fred’s ear in all earnestness, “This hallway really is too narrow, I wouldn’t be able to do any of my moves.”

I then said to Devon, “Dud