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❛ ᴏᴄᴇᴀɴ ᴇʏᴇꜱ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ɪ ᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴄʀᴏᴏᴋ ꒱


❝ I'M A STINKIN' BEAGLE ❞

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The school list for extracurriculars had been handed out earlier that day and Shawn and Juliet were reading items off of it to see what Cory was interested in.

"Football?" the redhead guessed.

"No, no. Pain. Cleats on face," he answered.

"Modern dance?" Shawn asked.

"No. Lotta girls. Tights. No."

"Drama club?"

"No. Lotta guys. Tights. No."

"That's the list, Cor," Shawn sighed.

"None of these are me. I mean here I am, going into my eighth year of public education and who am I, really?"

"You're you. You're Cory Matthews."

"Yeah, but there's no Cory Matthews club on here. There's no club for ordinary guys who don't know who they are and aren't great at anything," Cory said.

"So start one."

"Oh, I probably wouldn't get in."

Juliet groaned. "Stop being so dramatic, Cor. You don't have to have an extracurricular."

"Besides, you've got a lot of good qualities," Shawn pointed out.

"He's right," the redhead agreed. "You're honest, loyal and decent."

"And housebroken too. I'm a stinkin' Beagle," Cory moped as they entered the classroom.

"Alright, people. This is just off the wire," Mr. Turner announced as they sat down. "Elections for next year's eighth-grade class president will be held next week."

"Who cares?" Cory fake-sneezed.

"Detention!" Mr. Turner mimicked him.

"Sorry."

"Too many people whine and moan about the way things are run around here. Well, this is the chance to change things by getting involved. But remember, this is a student election—"

"Not a popularity contest," the class droned back.

"I think we've been spending a little too much time together," Mr. Turner joked. "The point is, your class president doesn't need to be a quarterback or a cheerleader. You'll be much better off with someone who's honest, loyal and decent."

Juliet straightened in her chair at the repeat of her words from earlier. "Cor, that's you!" she exclaimed.

"What?"

"You wanted to know who you were. You could be class president," Shawn agreed.

"Come on," he scoffed.

"Alright, let's have some nominations."

"I got somebody good. I nominate me," Meese spoke up.

"Your humility is impressive, Meese, but someone else has to nominate you."

"Topanga, Juliet, how about it?"

"No, go away and don't look at me," Topanga answered quickly while the redhead peered up at the ceiling with unnecessary interest.

"Alright, big deal. I'll nominate him." Cory raised his hand.

"What are you doing?" Shawn whispered. "That's your competition."

"I'm not running."

"Anybody else?"

Shawn stood. "The great state of Shawn nominates the people's choice: Cory Matthews."

Ah, what the heck? Juliet stood up as well. "The great tri-state area of Juliet also nominates Cory Matthews."

"You just had to one-up me, didn't you?" Shawn teased her.

"You know it," the redhead answered smugly.

"No!" Cory exclaimed.

"No! He's not gonna settle for second-rate leadership," Shawn corrected his reply quickly.

"Matthews, you've been nominated. Do you accept?"

"No way."

"No way would he turn down a chance to serve his fellow students," Shawn finished.

"What are you, his handler?" Mr. Turner asked.

"No he's not," Cory answered. "Look, I don't know anything about being president, okay? I wouldn't have a clue," he walked up to the front of the class, "I'm not somebody special. I'm just an average guy like all of you. The simple, the hard-working—" He paused as he gathered confidence. "—students who struggle day after day with too much homework, unfair teachers and an antiquated justice system that relies too much on detention."

Juliet exchanged an impressed look with Shawn as Cory continued: "and if elected, if I win and you guys vote for me, I would say to each and every one of you: 'hey, thanks!'"

🌎🌎🌎

"You've got something, man. You could really win this," Shawn said as they walked down the hallway.

"You're real president material, Cor," Juliet agreed.

"That's why we have to take your message from the lunchrooms to the bathrooms, from the halls to the stalls! We have to tell everybody who you are!"

"But I'm not anybody."

"Say it again."

"I'm not anybody," Cory repeated.

"That's what they like," the redhead told him. "Look at some of the US presidents that have been nominated. Nobody ever remembers Chester Arthur but he still did some great things."

"Thanks, Jules. It's nice that you think I'm easily forgotten," Cory responded sarcastically. "What else have I got?"

"You're not some handsome, smart popular guy," Shawn listed off. "You're not cool, you're not even halfway—"

"Hey! I got it, thank you," Cory interrupted him.

"Way to build him up, Shawnie."

"Sorry, just trying to help."

"Well, be more helpful," she scolded him. "Look, Cor, we're on your side, okay?"

"There is no other side," Shawn promised. "We're gonna put together a campaign like this school has never seen. An unstoppable tidal wave, gathering snow blazing through the sky, crushing everything in its beak."

The redhead glanced over at him. "You're really getting off on this, aren't you?"

"I gotta say I am."

🌎🌎🌎

Juliet stood behind the camera as Shawn introduced Cory's campaign: "this is Cory Matthews' campaign commercial, directed by me."

"And me!" the redhead added off-screen.

"The following is paid for by Citizens to elect Cory which, so far, is just me."

"And me! Action!" Juliet called.

"Cory Matthews: loyal, honest, decent. A leader who dares to say—" Shawn paused in his narration as Cory shook hands with random students.

"Hey! I'm average!" Cory finished as he moved to greet Topanga. "Why hello there, young lady. And what do you think of me?"

"Hi, Cory," she said, "tell me how you plan to make this school a more effective institution for the entire student body."

"Well, that's a very— Shawn, Jules!"

"Cut!" Shawn called and the girl turned off the camera. "Topanga, could you please just read what I wrote out for you?" he asked.

"Wow, you wrote notes?" Juliet asked him sarcastically.

The boy gave her a half-hearted glare before he turned back to Topanga, who rolled her eyes. "Yeah, like I'm gonna say 'Cory's cute and cuddly. That's what's important to me as a girl.'"

The redhead snorted. "And you waste note-writing on something stupid like that. Panga, you don't have to say that."

"What?"

"This is not how I think. This is not how any girl thinks and there's no m in cuddly," Topanga argued.

"Julie?"

"She's right. Next time leave the writing to me, Shawnie."

"Topanga, please, Shawn knows what he's doing," Cory said.

"No, no I don't," the dark-haired boy answered.

"What?"

"Really, she's right. I should have been more sensitive to our female brothers. Tell you what." He grabbed Topanga's note cards. "These are gone. I want you to say whatever you think needs to be said as a human being who just happens to be female."

"Oh boy," Juliet sighed.

"Apology accepted."

"Before you start, could you wet your lips?" Shawn flinched as Juliet poked his side with her finger.

Topanga stood and gave him an exasperated look. "You are so sleazy."

"What?"

🌎🌎🌎

"Okay, the idea here is that you and your brother share a common bond: brotherhood," Shawn told Eric. "We want to show that to the voters."

"So basically you just want to see me being an older brother," Eric clarified.

"Yeah, but not the one you usually are," Juliet added.

"There you go. Okay— action!"

The redhead held up the camera as Cory walked in to the kitchen. "Hey, Cor!" Eric greeted him.

"Hey there, older brother."

"You know Cor, I was just sitting here thinking: what makes my little brother special? What sets him apart from the other seventh-grade candidates? Is it his allergy to scallops?" Eric asked.

The redhead sighed. "Why does no one listen to what I say?"

"Is it his Scooby-Do thermos?" Eric showed the container to the camera.

"Where'd you find that?" Cory asked in a panicked voice.

"No, I think it's his fuzzy bunny pajamas with the cottontail."

"I haven't worn these for years, I swear!"

"Boinky, boinky, boinky. Vote for me! Vote for me! Boinky, boinky, boinky. . ."

"Cut!" Shawn called.

🌎🌎🌎

"Mr. McGruder, I don't care to hear what your little brother tore up or what your dog ate. I want your paper on my desk by first bell tomorrow or else," Mr. Feeny threatened a student as they walked down the stairs.

"You'll give me an F," the boy answered.

"I'll give you a G as in 'gee, if I'd just done my work on time I wouldn't be the only forty-year-old in the seventh grade.' Ta-ta!" Their teacher walked away.

"He's not human," the boy complained to the trio.

"You want him gone?" Shawn asked.

"Can you do that?"

"No—" Juliet started to say, giving Shawn a pointed look.

He cut across her, "no doubt about it! Cory can. If he's elected, Feeny's gone."

"You can do that?"

"If that's what you want, that's what Cory will do. Spread the word," Shawn patted the boy on the back before sending him on his way.

"Shawn, I want to win too," Cory started once they were alone, "but in what part of your diseased mind does the eighth-grade class president get to fire the principal?"

"Hey! His mind's not diseased," Juliet defended him. "He's just a little misguided. Shawnie, you know we can't do that, right?"

The dark-haired boy gave the redhead a fond look. "It's just a campaign promise," he reassured them. "It's what you say to get elected. Now, repeat after me: give the people what they want."

"Yeah, but I—"

"Give the people what they want," Shawn said again as he moved Cory's jaw to mime the words. "Give the people what they want."

🌎🌎🌎

"And if teachers get paid for teaching then students should get paid for learning!" Meese exclaimed as he stood on one of the cafeteria tables.

"Yeah!" the students called.

"And this homework thing— what is that about? If they can't teach enough during school hours why is that our problem?"

"Yeah!"

"This guy may be cheesier than we are," Shawn observed.

"He's got a point about the homework, though," Juliet commented. "Remember 'no homework, more freedom?'"

"A rally that died too quickly," the boy sighed.

"What do we do?" Cory asked worriedly.

"We break out the heavy cheese," Shawn said in complete seriousness before he stood on the next table. "Let me tell you something, my friends. How can you believe anything this guy says? He's got straight As. He's been making you look dumb for years." He paused. "Can you really trust this— this— curve breaker?" He began to chant: "curve-breaker, curve-breaker, curve-breaker!"

The boy stepped down and pushed Cory up. "Talk to 'em, Cory. Tell 'em what they want to hear."

Juliet crossed her arms as she stood next to Shawn. "Oh, like how his parents are dead and that he can replace Mr. Feeny?"

Shawn ran a hand through his hair. "Not some of my best work," he admitted sheepishly. "This will be better."

"My fellow students. There are many challenging issues which currently face John Adams High," Cory started but he quickly changed courses when he saw that the crowd was losing interest. "Issues that seemingly have no solutions and I say there'd be fewer problems if we spent less time here!"

As he regained everyone's attention, Juliet buried her face in her hands. "Oh boy."

Shawn grinned and rubbed his hands together. "I taught him everything I know."

"Clearly," the redhead mumbled.

"Yeah!" the students cheered after Cory's speech.

"Mondays are optional!"

"Yeah!"

"Tuesdays, come in prepared to learn!"

"Yeah!"

"We are the future!"

Meese interrupted him as he walked over to Cory. "Hey, you can't make five-day weekends."

"Yeah, well, you can't pay kids for going to school," the curly-haired boy answered.

"Are you questioning my integrity?"

"Yeah we are," Shawn said immediately, and he nudged the redhead to agree. She rolled her eyes but nodded.

"Well, I question yours and I have proof. Nobody move," he walked away.

Cory looked anxiously down at the two. "Shawn, he doesn't have anything on us, does he?"

"No, it's a bluff. It's gotta be. Listen man, a lot of weird stuff goes on in the trailer park."

"It does," Juliet nodded. "I've learned not to leave my bedroom window open or you hear everything."

Meese returned with a blonde girl. "Voters and voterettes, this poor, exploited young woman is named Paula and she has a sordid story to tell. Go ahead, Paula. Tell them what you told me."

"I was in the third grade with Shawn Hunter," Paula started hesitantly. "One day, he and I were standing near the monkey bars and. . . I can't go on."

Juliet shifted so that Shawn stood slightly behind her. Meese put a hand on the girl's arm. "Go ahead, Paula. Be strong," he encouraged her.

"Well, Shawn said that. . . that all girls. . . were icky!"

The redhead rolled her eyes as Shawn protested: "oh god, come on. I never said that."

"You wrote it on my notebook: 'all girls are icky.'" She pointed to each word as she read it.

"You kept that?" Juliet sneered slightly.

"That's better than what I have to say for you!" Meese said to the girl. "I may be a curve-breaker but I'm not the only one. You've been getting As since kindergarten and based on where you come from, that doesn't usually happen on its own. How do we know you're not a cheater?"

Juliet's eyes widened at the accusation and hurt flickered across her face. She opened her mouth to defend herself but Shawn got there first: "leave her out of this, Meese," he warned the other boy. "She works hard for those grades and would never cheat. Besides, I was only eight. I didn't like girls except Julie then but I love them now!"

"So, you changed your mind?"

"Of course," Shawn answered as he changed places with the redhead so the girl was behind him.

"Flip-flop. He changes his mind about girls, who knows what he's gonna change his mind about next? Same goes for Juliet. She's cheated her way to an A, will she cheat her way through the election?"

"Flip-flopper! Flip-flopper! Cheater! Cheater!" the students chanted.

"Wait a minute! Wait, wait, wait. Shawn and Juliet aren't even running here," Cory said as he stood on the table again.

"But they represent you, don't they?"

"Sure do," Shawn answered.

"Then Cory, are you prepared to drop out of the race?"

"No," the curly-haired boy said.

"Are you prepared to drop your flip-flopping, one-time, sexist campaign manager and his cheating friend?"

"All I want is justice. Shawn has to go," Paula announced, "and the election should be fair: no cheaters allowed."

"I don't cheat!" Juliet exclaimed.

"Spoken like a true cheater," Meese observed.

"Shawn must go! Juliet must go!" the class chanted.

"Wait a minute, don't you guys want a president who's loyal to his friends one thousand percent?"

"No!"

"Really? Is that what you guys want?"

"Yes!"

"Then Shawn and Juliet are out!" Cory exclaimed as everyone cheered.

Juliet and Shawn exchanged a wide-eyed look before they turned to glare at their so-called best friend.

🌎🌎🌎

Once everyone had filed out of the cafeteria, Cory, Shawn and Juliet sat on top of one of the tables. "How could you do this to us?" Shawn asked.

"Did you hear them cheer, Shawn? I think we picked up a lot of girl votes. You said we were weak on girls," Cory said.

"Cory, you fired us."

"Well, yeah, just a little," he admitted. He held up his hand and pinched two of his fingers together.

"No, no, it was all of us."

"But I had to. We're in this to win, right?"

"We? We? We?" Shawn questioned him. His voice cracked on the last 'we.'

"Shawn, you're squealing"

"Yeah I'm squealing. That's the sound you make when your best friend takes a gun and stabs you in the back right in front of your eyes."

"Shawnie—" Juliet started to correct him, paused, and closed her mouth while she shook her head.

"Look, I just did what you told me to do," Cory defended himself. "I gave the people what they wanted."

"Well, I want my campaign back."

"Yeah, since when was it your campaign?"

"Never," Juliet told him. "It was ours.'" She gestured between Shawn and herself to make sure the 'ours' was clear.

The dark-haired boy nodded in agreement. "Only since we nominated you and told you what to say every step of the way."

"You were helpful in the early going and I'll never forget that," Cory reassured them.

"You fired us."

"Shawn, my friend, this is not the time for bitterness. This is a time for healing."

"You know what, Cory Matthews? If I met you just this minute I wouldn't know who you are."

He stood and the redhead followed him, giving Cory an irritated look. "Yeah, who are you?"

"C'mon, Julie," Shawn said as he grabbed the girl's hand and pulled her out of the cafeteria.

Juliet couldn't tear her eyes away from their joined hands as Cory yelled after them: "I'm Cory Matthews, the next president of the eighth grade!"

"Not without us, pal!" Shawn answered, turning to look over his shoulder at the curly-haired boy before they left the cafeteria behind.

"Can you believe him?" he grumbled as he pulled her down the hall. The redhead was still looking down at their clasped hands and didn't answer, as he continued: "he called himself our friend and he ditched us!" He only stopped when he noticed he wasn't getting a response. "Julie?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you listening?"

Her head jerked up and she flushed slightly. "Uh yeah, 'course. Ugh, Cory," she agreed.

"Right," he said, giving her a concerned look. "Hey, what Meese said didn't get to you, right? We both know it's not true and that's what matters. I know you would never cheat, Julie."

Juliet couldn't help but smile at his (incorrect) guess. "I know, thanks, Shawnie. I was just-just thinking." She scrambled quickly to lie about what she had been thinking about, "they never closed the nomination time," she realized.

Shawn's eyes widened. "Are you thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

"Probably not," she teased him. "But in this instance? Maybe. Run for president?"

"Co-president," he said with a nod. "You can be the brains, I can be the face."

🌎🌎🌎

Juliet and Shawn rushed on stage the day of the presidential debate. Mr. Turner saw them coming, picked up a wooden podium and carried it onstage with the two students in tow.

"Slight change of plans," Mr. Turner told Mr. Feeny.

"You said I could be moderator!"

"Well, now there's even more to moderate."

"Oh, alright."

"Technically we never closed the nomination process and so, as of just now, there's a new candidate for president," he announced.

"Oh, good. Perhaps a serious-minded student appalled by the tawdry level of the campaign this far," Mr. Feeny said hopefully.

"Shawn Hunter."

"I quit."

"How you doing? Vote for me, vote for me," Shawn greeted the audience before he stepped up to his podium.

"Shawn, what are you doing?" Cory asked.

"What I should've done in the first place and run for president myself. Julie nominated me," he answered.

"Can he do this?"

"Mr. Turner, this is your little experiment in democracy. Can he do this?" Mr. Feeny asked.

"I don't see why not. Democracy is always invigorated by the infusion of fresh, new ideas."

"Do you have any ideas, Mr. Hunter?"

"Oh yeah, big honkin' ones," Shawn announced proudly.

"Big honkin' ones," Mr. Feeny repeated.

"So, flip-flopper, called any girls 'icky' lately?" Meese taunted him.

"Thank you for bringing that up, Alvin," Shawn acknowledged him. "Yes, I have made some mistakes in the past. I have called some girls icky, but that was a long time ago when I had cooties. That's right, that's right: I, Shawn Hunter, had cooties. But! I fought my way back and I stand before you today cootie-free and girl-friendly. And to prove that, I'd like to introduce you to my best friend and co-candidate for president, Juliet Capelwood." The red-haired girl approached the stage as he continued: "and no, she's not a cheater. She's one of the best people I know and someone I'm proud to have by my side," Shawn finished with a flourish by pulling out a rose.

Juliet gave him a pleased, surprised look as her face turned pink.

"Can he do this?" Cory demanded.

"Can he do this?" Mr. Feeny repeated.

"I don't see why not. Democracy is always—"

"Oh, be quiet. How far are you willing to let this go?"

"I have faith in these student and the electoral process—" Mr. Turner began before he changed his mind. "Maybe just another minute."

"Shawn Hunter's only in this race so he can get back at me for firing him," Cory cut in.

"And you're only in it because you didn't know who you were," Shawn shot back.

"Well, I know who I am now."

"Oh yeah? Who?" Juliet asked.

"I'm Cory Matthews, man of the people."

"Okay 'man of the people.' Didn't you lie to the people?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," Cory tried to act oblivious.

"Didn't you make them outrageous campaign promises you knew you couldn't possibly deliver?" Shawn demanded.

"Yeah, only 'cause you told me to."

"If I told you to jump off a bridge would you listen to me?"

"Yeah, I did that one time. Don't you remember?"

"How can you vote for a guy who's dumb enough to jump off a bridge?" Meese spoke up.

"It was a miniature golf bridge," Juliet said defensively.

"Yeah, he jumped in to get my ball and don't call my friend dumb," Shawn snapped.

"Leave us alone, nerd!" the redhead added.

"Yeah, there's no room in this campaign for name-calling, you four-eyed, frog-voiced geek," Cory agreed.

"Thank you!" Juliet exclaimed, throwing her hands up. "Finally someone acknowledged it."

"My mother does not buy my clothes!" Meese exclaimed before he froze. "I resign," he added, and quickly walked off the stage.

"Hey, nice outfit!" the girl called after him, high-fiving Cory and Shawn.

"Order, order! This has all gone far enough. Go back to your classrooms and cast your votes for the remaining candidates and may God have mercy on your souls," Mr. Feeny cut them off.

"Wait a minute, Mr. Feeny. Before they vote, shouldn't they hear what we have to say?"

"No."

"Look, I just want to say that before this election, I really didn't know who I was or what was important to me, but now— weeks later— after looking deeply into my soul, I still have no idea," Cory said.

"I know less than he knows!" Shawn added enthusiastically.

"Thank you, Mr. Lincoln, but wait you turn."

"So I ran for president to find out who I was and I think what I'm finding out is that I'm not a good candidate or a good friend, so I withdraw from the race and I think everyone should vote for Shawn. He's really the best friend you could have," Cory finished.

"No, I'm not," Shawn started. "I'm worse than you. I made up every lie he told. I've known Cory all my life and he really is honest, loyal and decent. That's what you are, Cor. That's all you need to be. I withdraw from the race, too."

"Well, Mr. Feeny, we're both out."

"Yes, well, I'm sure you'll do well in the private sector."

"Wait a second," Juliet protested. "I wanted to be president! I wanted to be somebody important and address the necessary issues like—"

"Julie, you wanna go grab a burger?"

"Uh—" the girl paused. She actually had been looking forward to making a difference but it was hard to remember that with Shawn looking right at her and— "Oh, alright. I'm out." 

[written nov. 2020]
[edited may 2022]