The Shards

What do you do when your friends think you're the boy who cried wolf?

Matt Kellner had gone missing in the dead of night sometime in September of 1981.

But oddly, no one in my social circle was that concerned about it.

Looking back, I realize that's the gift of youth.

You think you'll live forever.

I bet Matt moved to Big Sur to deal drugs, get out of the LA rat race.

I agree.

I mean, who wouldn't? I hear the Esalen Institute's amazing.

What?

That's lunacy. What about the blood-stained backpack they found?

Hon, I love you, but why are you so drawn to worst-case scenarios?

You didn't even know him.

Don't mourn a death that hasn't officially happened.

- Can we talk about happier things? - Please. I need a cig.

But then came October 1st, the so-called first day of spooky season.

October 1st was officially The Day the Fun Died.

Because that's the day The Trawler got Really Rhonda.

Really Rhonda was in our class, and everyone loved her.

Everyone thought she was hilarious.

Her father was a big ICM agent who represented Sally Kellerman.

He paid the school a handsome fee every year

to assure that Rhonda would be assimilated

and not locked away in the dungeon that was a special needs class.

If X and B are both positive real numbers…

Today we would understand

that Rhonda suffered from a neurological condition,

but back then we just thought she was darkly and convulsively

…Impulsive.

- - Rhonda, please stop it.

I wanna fuck Chewbacca, motherfucker.

- And a real truth teller. -

- Rhonda, do you want detention? - Um…

George Washington sucks cocks in hell, motherfucker!

Suck it, lick it, fucking ass-face! Fuck.

- - Really, Rhonda? Really?

And from that moment on, that's what we all called her.

Really Rhonda.

I always felt an affection for Rhonda.

Because during one of her outbursts,

she could have easily told the truth about me,

called me a fag or a gay face,

but she was kind to me.

I felt she purposely edited out my secret truth.

Protected me somehow from the pubescent cruelty of the other kids.

My favorite thing about Rhonda

was that she would not get off the disco roller trend long after it was over.

She just didn't care what people thought about her.

Can you imagine the gift of that?

Really Rhonda is such a good skater. She's even better than Cher.

Disco roller skating is important to this tale,

because that's what she was doing when she was taken.

There was only one disco roller derby place left in town in 1981.

And Rhonda was the only patron at Wheels that night of October 1st.

The Trawler knew that, the loneliness of the place.

And on that night, he snatched Really Rhonda from her happy place.

And out of all of our lives.

When Rhonda missed her curfew…

…her parents reported her missing.

The police immediately checked out the scene at Wheels.

- I'll check around back. - Got it.

And that's when they found bloodstains.

Over here.

Telltale clues of a violent struggle.

I went to the scene of the crime the next day,

oddly, instinctively.

The place Rhonda had joyously twirled the night before was deserted.

The rotating disco ball, once a symbol of joy, seemed sad to me, mournful.

Slowly twirling like a flag at half-mast

to announce all the ends of things that 1981 had taken from us.

Matt.

Roller disco.

Really Rhonda.

And our sense of security.

Please, please.

Please, please, help me.

Eat it.

It took about three days for everything to go back to normal,

and for everyone to forget about Matt

and Rhonda.

Oh, my God.

I love it when we skip lunch on the quad and kick it at the Hamlet.

Yeah, me too.

Anyone want half my lunch?

- Ooh. - Oh.

Okay.

Okay, listen up.

Don't forget to take your Flintstones vitamins this month...

Or your diet pills.

Saturday is Robert's, and next Thursday is Dance Off!

And no one is allowed to be hungover

because on Sunday, we all need to practice.

Seriously?

That Dance Off! thing is really happening?

Oh, my God. I thought you were joking.

Does it look like I'm joking, Bret?

Dance Off! Was a daily televised cable access show

that featured regular teenagers dancing to the hot hits of the day.

Teenagers like us.

A Los Angeles institution,

it had its heyday in 1974 and refused to die.

Debbie had been obsessed with the idea

ever since Corazon Cha Cha Rodriguez had gone on and held the camera's attention

for the length of an entire Blondie song.

And not just any Blondie song.

"Rapture," six minutes and 31 seconds.

Debbie saw that hot lava fame and she wanted it for herself.

Becoming a star was her secret ambition, but she was too cool to ever admit it.

I gotta say, I hate that show.

Okay, well, it's a rite of passage classic in this town, and it's happening.

Guys, don't you think it's kind of a bad look to be partying on TV

- with classmates missing? - Okay.

Well, it's what I want. It's done, and you're all coming.

You're welcome.

Okay, so that's it then?

We just don't care anymore about Rhonda or Matt?

Look, Bret, I'm not trying to speak for the group here,

but I'm gonna speak for the group.

- Rhonda and Matt what's-his-face... - Kellner.

They're missing. They haven't been declared dead.

Maybe they ran away.

Oh, Bret, before I forget,

do you want to go shopping with me after school for homecoming?

- Tuxedo Warehouse? - Tuxedo Warehouse?

- Is it too, uh… - You guys have that on the coast?

…I don't know, GQ ?

I think maybe not GQ enough.

Homecoming. I don't even want to go.

What do you mean you don't wanna go? W-Why do you keep saying that repeatedly?

You have to go.

You and Thom are totally gonna win homecoming king and queen.

Aren't we a little old for homecoming?

I would agree with that.

Homecoming feels like a word that's, you know,

partial to overweight Midwesterners

who make floats out of toilet paper scraps and suffer from gout.

It's not like I even have an outfit.

You know what you would look great in?

A simple black slip dress, something fresh, modern.

- Hmm. - No jewelry.

Just décolletage.

Décolletage?

Maybe we should cancel the party too, you know.

It's Robert's big welcome party, Bret.

It's my big welcome party, Bret.

It's gonna be like Capote's Black and White Ball.

I'm so excited, thrilled.

Et cetera.

Bret's right.

We should do something.

Maybe we should post flyers.

That's a great idea. Do something proactive.

Why don't me and you do it together, Susan?

Waitress, some more fries, please.

We're asking anyone with information about Rhonda to please come forward.

You won't be in trouble.

The only way we're gonna find these kids is if we look.

Or if they show up.

Right.

All of us have been haunted by the story of Etan Patz,

six-year-old boy who disappeared outside his home in SoHo, New York.

Was he kidnapped?

Was he murdered?

We don't know.

What we do know

is that because his picture appeared on every milk carton in America,

his face is burned into the minds of the people who are going to bring him home.

That is why we are handing out bottles of Really Rhonda water

to increase awareness...

- And hydration. -

If you can't find a Perrier, reach for a Really Rhonda bottled water.

Thanks again to Rhonda's dad and all the heroes at ICM

for sponsoring our flyer, hydration, and the Rescue Rhonda Fund.

Bravo, ICM.

Now, AV club, hit it.