"Mr. Messina-Park!" yells Principal Strickland, but Jin puts one of his beefy yaoi hands on her mouth to shut her up.

A video starts playing, one with Braiden, wearing the same suit he's using, walking in front of a green screen of a swirling world. "Hello, Kittens! It's me, daddy! Also known as Braiden Messina-Park."

An idiot behind us says "Hello" to the video before being shushed off. "See, for years, both schools have mismanaged funds from clubs to funnel towards dumb sports programs, expensive dinners for the PTA, and, in one particular case, a very expensive custom fursuit."

I swear I can see daggers coming from Principal Strickland's eyes staring down at Principal Dickweed. I kinda feel for him, as one would feel for a baby getting scared by a fast-moving blanket.

"But no more!" continues the video. "Why should schools have the say on who can form a club or not? Why do some clubs have more money than others? Is a man not entitled to the sweat of his brow?"

"Yeah!" a few people cheered, which I think are part of the Communist Club. They throw amazing parties, because ain't no party like a communist party.

The green screen behind Braiden turns into a flaming inferno, complete with a stock image watermark at the corner. "Face it, kittens. High school is not fair. The popular kids bully the nerds, the nerds bully the new kids. There is always someone suffering! But not because we want to, but because the school wants it that way!"

"Yeah!" yelled a new batch of people. Mostly new kids and nerds.

"They have the power to stop the bullying. They have the power to achieve true equality! But no. They want to tell you what to do, and when to do it. We are young people, for fuck's sake! We shouldn't have to ask permission to go to the bathroom when we are months away from choosing what career we will pursue for the rest of our lives!"

"Yeah! Let's shit on the floor!" yells a girl on the other side of the bleachers. And now she is perhaps the only person a new kid can bully.

"Well, today is our day of revolution! The school has failed to uphold their end of the bargain. Time to take the bull by the horns!"

"And yerk it off!" yells a boy that I hope is from the animal husbandry club.

The background changes to a tournament bracket with different teams in the background crudely duking it out. "Introducing the 'School Club Battle Royale,' a tournament where clubs will compete against each other in a series of 10 challenges, battle-royale style! The last team standing after each of the challenges will receive a $2000 donation towards their club, and only their club. $20000, ten challengers, ten winners, all for grabs. Only the best of the best kittens will be able to have the funds to keep their club afloat. Those who don't will have to join the winner's club, and submit to their rules."

"Ah, so that's how it is," I say to Hayden. "What's the trick here? Braiden wouldn't do this from the kindness of his heart. Brayden? Any insight?"

"bitch's making moolah out of this, somehow," says Brayden. "i'll find out how. something smells funky."

"I think that's me," says Hayden, blushing. "Haven't had a shower."

Is it that simple? You have to remember, dear hypothetical reader, that Braiden is in cahoots with the SoCal sociopath Aiden, and last time I read the final chapter of season 2, they were scheming. This is a setup. But I don't know what for.

"Of course, the alternative is not playing, be in violation of school code, and face disciplinary action," says the Braiden video. "But, you know, you do you. For more information, please visit . Sign-ups will start tomorrow, and will run until the end of the week. Back to you, Braiden, you sexy devil."

"Thank you, other me!" says the actual Braiden. "God, he's handsome."

With a snap of his fingers, the lights come back on.

"Wait, did he say .tv?" I ask.

"Maybe he likes Tuvalu?" says Hayden.

Brayden grabs what little remains of the Awkwafina cup and crushes it once again, making his hand bleed dramatically. It it's to note that Okayden is eyeing the blood like a castaway looking at the last Coca-Cola in the shipwreck: lustily. "that bitch is gonna televise the tournament. probably gonna make it pay-per-view!"

"A tournament, eh?

And televising it, too,

Very anime."

There's the word again. Anime. This is giving me the heebie-jeevies. Would it be?... nah. It can't be. It's been 10 years. It's impossible.

"Wasn't that your idea in that extra Amazon chapter from season 1?" asks Hayden.

"Hey, you three in the peanut gallery," yells Braiden towards us. "Can you zip it? I'm trying to do a q&a here. Yes, you, in the red shirt. Got a question?"

A girl in a red shirt, which I recognize from the HVMW book club, speaks up. "Yes, is this like a Hunger Games scenario?"

"No, more like, a Squid Game scenario!" says another girl from the CBSP K-Drama club.

"Or a Danganronpa situation!" says a boy from the... uh, HVMW Anime club. Okay, this is getting freaky.

"Yes to all," says Braiden. "Only, less killing, more riddle solving, scavenger hunting, and all that. You can read more on the website. Yes? Down left. Grey hoodie."

"So, any club can enter?"

"Yes. Duh. You can check the website for more info. You, blue skirt."

"How do we sign up?"

"Are you kidding me? Go to the damn website!" he says, motioning to the screen behind him flashing the website.

Principal Dickwank seems to finally snap out of his stupor, shaking his head and approaching Braiden just as Principal Strickland punches Jin in the balls to let her go. "You can't do this!" he yells, getting all up in his face. "I will not allow this!"

"We will not allow this!" added Principal Strickland.

Lee is unusually quiet. There's no way she's not complicit in this. She's always complicit.

Braiden just smiled at them, snapping his fingers at Juan, who handed him two folders. "I will do as I please, and you won't do anything about it, unless you care to answer a few questions from the IRS about these weird bills on the school's books, like $15000 for a bus that suddenly transformed into a new Cadillac Escalade that only the principal could use, or a three-day trip to Vegas for a 'Team Building' conference for one, in a hotel that housed FurryCon."

Both principals went pale, staring at the research this little twerp managed to whip up. "Now, any other dumb questions one wouldn't have to ask if they go to the damn website?"

A single hand raises from the crowd. Of course, when it comes to dumb questions, you have to give it to the undisputed king of dumb: Haiden.

"Haiden has question," says Haiden. "All Haiden has to make to have money is defeat everyone."

"That... is not a question," says Braiden, "but yes?"

"Good," says Haiden. "Then Haiden beat everyone here and win money."

"Wait, that's not what-" is the last thing I hear, as Haiden took a ball out of nowhere and throws it directly to my face.

Hayden is not fast enough to catch it this time. I hear it connect to my face, followed by a crunch.

Next thing I know, I'm in the infirmary, my face aching.

Hayden and Okayden are standing next to the bed, in silence, looking at me as I try to shake off the dazing feeling long enough to take in my surroundings. Somehow, everything is... clearer. More colorful than before.

"Babe!" says Hayden, sitting in a chair next to my gurney. "Are you-" Hayden begins to say, but stops once he sees my face. Oh, no, did I break my nose? I did hear a crunch before passing out.

I touch my nose to feel the damage, but it's as straight and perfect as it was before. And yet, there is something missing. I feel lighter. Wait, something hit my face, followed by a crunch, and my face is lighter.

Shit, it's my glasses!

I try to cover my face, but it's too late. He saw it.

"Ayden," says Hayden, standing up. "Is that... are you..."

"Don't say it!" I yell. "Please, don't. Don't bring it into existence!"

Just at that moment, I hear a knock at the door. My instinct is to look at who it is, for I am the narrator, cursed to relay the information to you. The curse of being a protagonist.

"hey, fuck-os," says Brayden, arms full of cans, "all there is are lacroix pure, so... what the shit?" he says as soon as our eyes cross paths. "ayden, bro, what the fuck? why are your eyes purple?"

Please, don't say it, don't say it, don't say it.

"you look like some cheap anime protagonist or something."

Shit, he said it.