Disclaimer: The Hey Arnold characters belong to Craig Bartlett, and to him alone. That his characters have inspired such hubris in me that would see me attempt a fan fiction based on them, speaks volumes of my reverence of the man.

Foreword: As is often the case, inspiration for this story struck me suddenly and I knew I had to act quickly on it. To me, it represents two opportunities, one of which I'll explain in a later chapter. As for the other one...I'm about to start what I believe will be a very difficult chapter in my other work, "Rhonda V: Home, Away, and Everywhere Else". Thus, I'd like to keep myself busy with a simultaneous project to help shift my focus and prevent me from burning myself out. It worked a royal treat at one point when I was working on three concurrent projects and not once did I feel fatigued or unfocused.

Anyway, that'll be enough prattling from me. You're here (hopefully) to read a story. So...I hope you enjoy it.


1. Catalyst

"I'm eating," repeated Patty.

Patty was always soft-spoken, perhaps in fitting with the monolithic figure she cut within all of P.S. 118. She spoke quietly, yet her voice conveyed an easy, effortless menace, as well as a promise that whosoever would provoke her, would come off second best.

Someone had just done the former and was now in line for the latter. And now someone else was partway into appealing that she show mercy.

"Look, Patty," Arnold pressed on, aware that he was indeed interrupting her lunch. "Helga apologized to you, right? So why do you still have to beat her up?"

Patty said nothing as she kept masticating. She was deliberately slow in chewing and swallowing that last bite of her sandwich. She was equally slow and deliberate in placing the rest of her sandwich back in its paper bag before eyeing Arnold with all her attention.

The slow actions, the sustained stare…all to intimidate Arnold, discourage him. Make him think twice before continuing with his say. But Arnold held firm: Patty could see he wasn't intimidated. At least, not as much as the rest. Usually, anyone in his position would have been a few shades paler, would have lost the ability to enunciate, and would have been staring at her through pinpricks for eyes. Arnold exhibited none of those characteristics, yet neither was he displaying any aggression toward her. She found it oddly…disarming.

Enough at least to indulge him. And indulging him meant getting straight to the point: "What's it to you anyway if I pound her or not?"

Patty watched him flinch at her question before recovering almost immediately. "Look," he began, "I know Helga's said a lot of mean things about you, but I don't think she meant them."

"You didn't answer my question," Patty responded, still calmly.

"Excuse me?"

Aha! He wavered! He's on the backfoot!

"You worry about me beating her up for some shit she said about me. What about the vile crap she says to you? The pranks she pulls on you. Don't think I haven't noticed. Hell, the whole school can see she hates your guts! Didn't she even egg Harold on to kill you that time?"

He flinched again, but this time there was no recovery. No answer to that statement, no defence. Her cue to assert her advantage further.

"You surprise me, Arnold. I'd have thought you of all people would want to see Helga bite off more than she can chew and then have to pay for it."

"Well yes. I MEAN…NO! I MEAN…not this way!"

Mm, there was strong emotion in his answer, rendering him incoherent. Almost as if…

But once again he'd regained his composure and was able to put together a complete sentence. "Isn't there another way to settle this thing between you two?"

OK, now he was becoming tiresome. Even so, he'd never been less than respectful with her. And even for Patty Smith, respect far outweighed fear. So instead of biting Arnold's head off, she decided to put the outcome in his hands.

"Tell you what, Arnold. I meet Helga at 3:15 in the sports hall. If you figure out that other way, feel free to stop me any time you want. Even during the beating."

Not a suggestion, not a proposal: a challenge. She was daring him. It would be interesting to see how he would respond.


Well Helga Ol' Girl, you've really gone and done it this time.

And as deserved as Helga Pataki's self-castigation felt, it was ultimately futile. It was 15:13 and she had begun her walk to the sports hall where her fate awaited her. All because she chose to run her damn mouth about Big Patty. No real surprise there: she was Helga Pataki and for her, mouthing off was as easy as breathing. Ninety-nine percent of the time she had Old Betsy to back her up, which would be more than enough. But now she was up against Big Patty, the remaining one percent.

Fatty Patty!

Ugly Patty!

Stupid Patty!

Names Helga had called her…stupidly within earshot. She did apologize to Patty, largely under duress from Arnold. The problem wasn't that Patty hadn't accepted her (no doubt) half-assed attempt at an apology – she did. The problem was the timing: Patty had already called her out in front of a crowd of witnesses. The time and place had been confirmed, and there was no backing out and denying the masses the blood for which they were baying.

Now was the time of reckoning as she walked down the lonely school passage, through the exit, and into the playground where they were waiting. Patty and the spectators. Patty, waiting patiently. The rest, munching on popcorn in anticipation of the entertainment.

And Arnold. The footballhead. Her beloved footballhead. His concerned expression stood out from the rest of the congregation. He was there out of care and concern. Hmph! What good would his care and concern do when he couldn't even act upon them?

Stupid footballhead! Guess you can't save everyone now, can you?

It was all Helga could do to remain as stoic as possible as she approached Patty. Those animals in the peanut gallery would not get the satisfaction of seeing her frightened. And a final flourish of bravado when she reached Patty: "OK Patty, I'm here. Do your worst!"

The spectators hissed and winced at Helga's challenge. Patty seemed unaffected by Helga's audacious move. She looked up from Helga to focus on the gathered masses. "Leave," she simply said.

The spectators moaned at the instruction. "But Patty!" Sid objected on everyone's behalf. "We came to see a show!"

Patty's glare intensified and all before her were silenced. "Closed session," said Patty in a slightly different, more chilling variation of her calm voice. "You'll see the outcome tomorrow."

That did the trick. The crowd dispersed, fearing that what Patty was about to do to Helga would be best without the presence of witnesses and accessories. All except for Arnold, who remained where he stood in the face of several departees questioning his sanity for disobeying Big Patty. Their questions didn't last for long as one by one they decided that their own self-preservation trumped their concern over Arnold's poor decision-making.

Patty waited until only she, Helga, and Arnold remained. The following few seconds passed in uncomfortable silence as none of the three knew what to say.

"And exactly what are you still doing here, Arnoldo?" asked Helga, still maintaining her bravado. "I don't suppose you have some brilliant, earth-shattering intervention in mind."

"Yeah, have you found that better way yet?" added Patty, her voice nowhere as mocking as Helga's.

Helga was profoundly surprised at that reveal. Did my beloved really speak to Patty beforehand? Did he plead for my life to be spared? She felt her hopes rise ever so greatly. What a day to be alive! To know that her dearest, most precious footballhead was willing to stand up for her in the face of such great adversity!

"Patty, this is wrong!" Arnold softly pleaded. "She already apologized to you and you accepted. Please, just do the right thing."

Patty simply shook her head at that statement, "Sorry Arnold, but if that's the best you got…"

Helga was instantly deflated. She slumped her head forward, the better to feel a tsunami of dejection wash over her. Arnold: her great hope, her great disappointment. What a moron. What a weak-kneed, lily-livered scam artist!

She then felt herself being shoved by Patty all the way to the nearby hall.

"Patty, please!" Arnold redoubled his cry for civility with more vehemence. "It doesn't have to come to this!"

Patty was past the point of hearing him, let alone responding. His words did fall on Helga's ears though, for all the good that it would do. In fact, what it did was cause her to spit more venom his way.

"Ha! Some help you were, Bucko!" she sneered loudly at him as if to distract herself from the imminent beating. "Why did you even bother staying behind? So pathetic, so useless! You might as well have said nothing at all! Why don't you just turn tail and walk away like all the others? It's not like you're any better than any of them! Good ol' Arnold! Always helpful except when it matters! I mean, this is Patty. Dumb Patty, who only knows how to solve problems with her fists!"

"Helga, no!" Arnold loudly admonished her foolishness while Patty paused at Helga's newly surfaced chutzpah.

Before he could continue, however: "Oh shut up, you useless peacenik! As if she's not already going to beat the tar out of me!" Helga then focussed her attention on Patty, whom she now addressed with a contemptuous smile: "Isn't that right, Patty? If I know I'm dead anyway, what's to fear?"

She would have continued with her invective had Patty not picked her up and thrown her, hard, into the building, followed her inside, and closed the door.

xxXXXxx

Helga quickly found her feet and stood up to Patty who had closed the door and was now bearing down on her with what looked like first-degree intent. Patty was in no hurry; after all, this was part of her game, or so Helga had heard. To watch the quarry realize that there was no escape, to watch them as they became more and more desperate.

Helga stood steely-eyed, determined not to let Patty have that satisfaction. She remained that way, right up until the moment Patty's right fist came out of nowhere to connect true against her nose. Her knees buckled, her vision became a momentary shade of black. And before she was aware of anything more, she was on her seat, on the floor with Patty lording it over her.

She had time to remember a pearl of wisdom she'd heard from some or other cartoon some time ago as the bigger girl grabbed her by her dress's collar and yanked her up off her feet.

Some days it don't pay to get out of bed!


And that's the first chapter done. If you've made it this far, then thank you ever so much for honoring me with your support. Not much in the way of author's notes, you may be glad to read. However, I would like to know what kind of start I'm off to and would appreciate any feedback.

So here's' this chapter's Deezer list:

Carpet Crawlers - Genesis

This Cowboy Song - Sting

Get Outta Town - The Gone Jackals

And thus endeth the chapter. See you next time.