Two days later, Madeline found success in her campaign. Many people were buying her shirts, taking her flyers, retrieving bracelets. The list went on and on and so far, Madeline thought she was doing a great job convincing others to look at her the way she wanted to be looked at.
She decided to stay late after school to participate in debate club. Once it was over, Madeline walked out into the hallways with her acquaintance and fellow candidate, Chrissy Walker.
"Did you see Samantha's outfit today?" asked Chrissy.
"Oh, yeah," Madeline replied. "It was so eighties."
"So eighties. It was like Grease."
"Grease took place in the sixties."
"But it was made in the eighties."
"No, it was made in the seventies."
"Don't correct me!"
"Sorry."
"But I love it."
"I loved it, too."
"So eighties."
"Eighties, man!"
The girls giggled until they stopped to see one of Madeline's posters which was hung up on an empty wall, vandalized. With black magic marker, Madeline's eyes were drawn with X's, a tongue stuck out her pink mouth and her face with stippled with supposedly pimples. Madeline stared at the poster with horror while Chrissy stared in shock.
"What the--?" Madeline started. She walked closer to the poster. "Who-- Who-- What?!"
"Oh, Madeline, that is so messed up," Chrissy commented.
"Why would... someone... draw over my poster like that?"
"Don't get upset, Maddie. Maybe this is the only poster that got ruined."
Madeline's eyes widened. She looked down the hall, realizing that she hung up another poster not too far from the poster in front of her. She speed-walked towards it with every detail slowly appearing before her eyes. She stopped an inch in front of the wall with Chrissy coming her way. The other poster was drawn over the same way as the first poster, except devil ears were drawn on Madeline's head and glasses were placed over her eyes.
"I didn't know the devil liked to read," stated Chrissy.
Madeline glared at Chrissy.
"You know because you're wearing reading-- Nevermind."
"I can't believe somebody would be so ignorant to do something like that," shared Madeline.
"Are you going to drop out from the campaign?"
"I don't know; people sure want me to but I had no idea. Oh, my, I'm gonna cry."
"You don't look like you're going to cry."
"Because it takes me a while!" Madeline later snatched Chrissy's olive-colored purse from her arm. "Do you have any tissues?" she asked while unzipping it.
"No, but I can get you some." Chrissy grabbed onto her purse. "No tissues in my bag."
After reaching into the purse, Madeline pulled out a black marker. She stared it down in confusion before staring down Chrissy in pure anger.
"Madeline, it's not what you think," Chrissy giggled nervously.
Madeline's face balled up in fury.
"Anybody can own a black magic marker that they can put in their purse. That doesn't mean anything, Madeline."
"My posters did not look like this when I went to debate club," Madeline growled. "Did you do this when you supposedly 'had to go to bathroom'?"
"No, I actually had to use the bathroom."
"Then why did it take you fifteen minutes to use it?"
"Explosive diarrhea?"
"Chrissy, I'm going to count to one--"
"Oh, come on."
"--and if you don't tell me the truth, I will--"
"Fine, I did it!"
"Why? Why would you scribble on my posters?"
"So you can drop out."
"What?!"
"Everybody likes you. You just have 'the package' that everyone is looking for. I find that unfair. In order for me to win this race, you're going to have to not be in it."
"Chrissy, we're friends. You can't betray me like this."
"Oh, yes, I can. Power over companionship. I'm hashtagging it!"
"No, you cannot hashtag that," Madeline threw the marker at Chrissy's chest. "You're playing dirty on purpose; it's not my fault that people like me."
"Oh, yes, it is. And you're abusing that fact to get what you want."
"Oh, I always get what I want but I don't abuse anything when I do!"
"Girls, girls," a teenage boy said, coming from almost nowhere, breaking the girls up. "What is going on?"
The boy wore a buttoned flannel shirt with burgundy glasses and held a small, green box with a silver ribbon.
"Chrissy is being an unfair candidate," replied Madeline. "She vandalized all of my posters."
"More like most of your posters," Chrissy corrected. "I tried to get them all but I didn't want to get caught."
"Anyway, she's trying to make me crack and forfeit the campaign. She needs to be prohibited, A.J."
"Chrissy, I don't believe you," A.J. said, walking up towards her. "How are you going to be president if you're dishonest? I shall report you to Mrs. Reuben or Mr. Burbank so they can enjoin you from the campaign."
Chrissy scoffed before looking down in what felt to be defeat.
A.J. turned around to face Madeline. "I'm so sorry, Madeline. If we're going to do this race, we're going to do this the clean way. Also, I brought you a gift." He held up the box to Madeline's chest level.
"Oh, thanks, A.J.," she smiled. "It's good to get along with someone who is not looking for a fight." She flipped off the lid of the box and unawaringly, a thick, beige substance shot out and hit Madeline directly in the face.
A.J. and Chrissy laughed as Madeline dropped the box on the floor and wiped the matter from her mascara eyes.
"What is this?" Madeline almost screamed.
"Oatmeal," answered A.J. "Like my little 'Oatmeal in a Box' toy?"
"Did you get that from the prank store?" asked Chrissy.
"Yes, I surely did."
"Nice."
"A.J., what the heck?" Madeline screamed that time, flinging the oatmeal down on the floor.
"Two words: drop out," A.J. disclosed. "It's that simple."
"Wha-- You want me to drop out, too?"
"Hello! Yeah, I do. Do you realize how many people like you? Nope, not on my watch."
"Why am I being dogged on for being liked? Being liked is so easy!"
"Not easy for us," Chrissy jumped in.
"I was so excited to run for president," confessed A.J., "until I heard you, Madeline King, decided to sign up. I'd be glad to do this with anyone but you."
"I thought we were friends," stated Madeline with her voice turning high-pitched.
"Oh, we are and we still will be once me or Chrissy wins," said A.J.
"So you both are turning against me?"
Chrissy picked up her magic marker, popped off the cap and pointed the marker at Madeline like a sword. "What's your favorite color, punk?" she quoted.
A.J. picked up his box and put the lid back on, leering at Madeline with a smirk.
"Not black," Madeline responded before running away as fast as she could.
Chrissy and A.J. chased after her with their "weapons".
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