Spoiler
Okay, SO! I haven't posted a work in... um, a while I guess. I've had the worst Writer's Block for the past... 6 months or so, and this is one of the first decent thing I've written in a very long time. So, if it lacks quality, let me know. xD It's not meant to be serious, so enjoy. I hope.
Part One...
The commander's fist hit the desk's surface, making every nerd in the room jump. Nervous eyes peeked over the top of laptop computers and stacks of Algebra books. The entire room went eerily silent as their commander glared at his desktop screen, eyes flickering with rage behind his thicker-than-average glasses.
He looked up, and even though Captain Robert Hyatti was standing beside his superior, it felt an awful lot like those eyes were glaring directly at him. After all, it was partially his fault that the Jocks had sent the threat in the first place.
A threat that was filled with terrible grammar and, dare he say it, net-speak. Robert shuddered and adjusted his pocket protector to busy his shaky hands as Commander Nicholas read the threat out loud.
"u noobz hav bin left alone 4 long enuf now surender or fase the rath of Butch futbal jok ov the centiree." The commander paused, the edges of his mouth twitching. "And, for those of you who don't understand a single word I just said, the translation to that opening line would be, 'You unworthy foes have been allowed to go free for long enough. Surrender now or face the wrath of Buth, Football Jock of the century."
The group said nothing, and neither did Robert. It seemed like every eye in the room was on Nicholas, and the Nicholas had nothing left to say.
Robert figured that it was his turn to speak up, seeing as his superior's mind was elsewhere. "Four lines of bad grammar later," he started, stepping forward, "they state that they are sending out their most powerful weapons yet!" He waited to see if the commander would order him to step down, and continued when he issued no such order.
"Obviously, brawn is no match for brain, but even so, most of our comrades are in China, aiding in finding a cure for Leukemic." His brown eyes held steady, though his body was quivering. Nicholas had claimed he had a secret weapon-- a new league of nerds who had been found working underground for centuries, but so far, Robert hadn't heard anything else on the subject.
One spindly hand rose, and Nicholas snapped out of his stupor. "Yes, Edwund?" he asked, sniffing and smoothing out a few wrinkles in his sweater-vest.
The nerd that had raised his hand lowered it slowly and returned the commander's sniff before answering. "What are we going to do!?" Robert had never heard Edwund's nasally voice sounding so desperate before.
Nervous murmurs rippled through the lecture hall, coated with quiet sniffs and the sound of asthma puffers being pushed.
"SILENCE!" Robert hadn't even noticed he had spoken until the words were out of his mouth. His commander's harsh look made him regret his sort-of decision immediately.
However, the room had gone eerily silent. Every eye was now on the second-in-command, waiting for his explanation. Nicholas spoke up instead.
"Your nervousness is not required, my dear nerds. What's left of our four main sectors, Tech Nerds, Math Nerds, Science Nerds and History Nerds, will be working in the hall doing various jobs. Nobody from these four sectors is to go out to the field during the battle."
One of the more daring of the Tech Nerds, red-head Sandra Dillia, spoke up without so much as raising her hand. "But sir!" she started, standing and clutching a few dozen wires to her chest, "If we're not out there fighting, the Jocks will be able to storm the hall!"
Before more nervous banter could be stirred up, the commander was speaking again. "Good observation, Sandra, but you must understand that the jocks aren't the ones with a few tricks up their sleeves." He winked, and a now-blushing Sandra slipped back into her seat, the faintest outlines of a smile on her lips.
Robert blinked, glancing between Sandra and his long-time friend and commander. Nicholas never called anybody-- especially the girls-- by their first names. It was either 'Miss' or 'Mister' and, on occasion, 'Missis.' Then again, Robert supposed that he shouldn't be too surprised. Anybody with a superior brain capacity could see that there had been something going on between the two for the longest time now.
"An- and just what we-weapon would th-this b-b-be?" One of the nerds asked-- Denis Fry, if Robert was remember correctly. The poor boy had a horrible stutter, much worse than any of the other nerds. It was near impossible to understand what he was saying half of the time.
The grin that spread across Nicholas' face after the question had his second-in-command gulping. That look was never a good one, especially if Nicholas ran his tongue across his braced teeth afterwards, which he was now doing.
"What do you have up your sleeve, Nick?" Robert whispered, leaning so that his lips were near his commander's ear.
Nicholas snorted and began to explain, however vaguely, what he had in mind. "There's a secret legue of Nerds out there-- the most deadly, the most horrific breed there is. They have only been called forth on one other occasion-- the great war that was a whole twenty semesters ago. The War of Burton High!"
It seemed as though the entire crowd gasped as one and busied themselves with adjusting their glasses and inhaling their asthma medications.
Nicholas' grin had grown to twice the size it was before. "Who here reads novels?"
Almost every hand went up, including Robert's. He had no idea where the young man was getting with this, but he didn't dare question his commander.
"How many of you know that those authors, the very ones that wrote those adrenaline-laced adventures and romance-soaked heart-warmers, are typically retired W-force members?"
Jaws dropped, and still more glasses were pushed up. There were a few odd murmurs in the crowd, though most of the Nerds had been stunned into silence. Including Robert. The W-force were just a myth! They simply did not exist-- they couldn't exist! If they were real, Robert would have heard of them a long time ago. He glanced at Nicholas, waiting for him to laugh and announce that it was all some sort of cruel joke. But the commander was still grinning, and his lips were starting to move again.
"The W-force are the Word Nerds, the most feared sector in all of Nerd history! Most of you probably assume them to be myth-- Writers are not True Nerds! The very idea is probably preposterous to you! However, Writers are True Nerds, perhaps the truest of all of us!" Nicholas took a deep breathe, eyes sparkling. "They have power like no other. By their very hand, bizarre wonders are created and brought to life. It is by their words and creation that we will win this war!
There was a moment of silence, during which Robert and his fellow Nerds chewed on this new bit of information. It was Sandra who broke it with a loud "WHOOP!" The others followed her lead, cheering in their variating nasally voices.
Robert glanced at Nicholas, slightly taken aback by the malicious glint in his eyes.
To be continued...
