Post by purrfection on Oct 13, 2007 20:31:28 GMT -6
Ike was wounded. Like a killdeer. Except killdeer weren't really wounded, they were just pretending. Ike was not pretending. He did not know if his bits were the right size anymore, and he could no longer compare himself to other males. His manly status was ruined. Did he even HAVE a manly status? What is the meaning of life? Did Abe Lincoln have lots of girlfriends? Do all bananas grow on trees?! If Hitler had a goldfish, would he hav--
"Ike! Get off you ass, and eento ze seat Amanda- I mean Professor Definstine asigned you. Zeep up your pants before I do eet myself! And trust me! Im not afraid to snag a beet of skeen een zat zeeper!"
After alotting the usual five seconds of blank staring in Elle's general direction (which happened to be directly above him and a huge strain on his neck), Ike mumbled dejectedly, "Go ahead... this cat's been shaved one too many times, if ya know what I mean." Elle most likely did not know what Ike meant. Had she stopped to consider it long enough, she might have realized that what he said could be interpreted many different ways. Maybe she realized that anyway. Regardless, she went on to talk to Malcom without trying to zip up Ike's pants, and Ike took that as a sign that she knew his weiner was too small. He sniffled and continued to lie on the floor.
--
When Ellendie Flor burst into the History of Magic classroom three floors below, Michael Dubois was teaching his students about the effects of World War II on the wizarding world. It was a topic he found interesting and he really hated to pause the class, but he figured it was urgent and stopped the lecture to talk to her.
According to Elle, the Mythology and Legends class was out of control and Professor Definstine had gone to hide in her office. There were a few fine points in this that Michael could simply not grasp and that was... well, that was all of it, really. First and foremost, he knew Amanda to be a very assertive, self-confident woman who could easily control a group of teenagers. She was more assertive then he was, Michael knew that much. Secondly, he couldn't imagine her retreating from anything.
But that was the student Amanda that he knew so well, not the professor. And Michael knew that Elle was not lying. He gave his class a page number and told them to read quietly out of their textbooks until he returned; then he left with Elle for the Mythology classroom.
Michael could hear a faint murmering of noises leaking through the classroom door when he got there, but when he entered, it wasn't as chaotic as he'd expected it to be. Most of the students were acting responsibility in the absence of a professor--some were reading, others were doodling on the parchment that Michael assumed that they had planned to use for notes. There looked to be no foreign substances in the vicinity, like blood or... otherwise, but as Michael scanned his surroundings he came upon the problem: It was concentrated at the front of the room, like a tumor, where a few desks had gone askew. One of said desks was lying on top of Ike Barringer, who was, oddly enough, sprawled on the floor. Or maybe it wasn't so odd. Anyway, that was only one-half of the problem. The other half, Malcom Gray, was having a conversation with Ruana Sremmos nearby. On second thought, Michael decided that it probably wasn't so much of a conversation as a one-way spew of garbage.
Michael frowned. Even he had trouble dealing with Malcom and Ike. The best solution he had ever been able to come up with was to try to be stupider than they were, if that low of a IQ was, in fact, achievable. Of course, Michael didn't really feel like being an idiot, so he decided to start from the beginning, just to see what worked and what didn't. No need to kill off brain cells if it wasn't necessary.
"Tell Professor Definstine to come out here, please," he told Elle, then he began to recall his mental checklist:
How to Save Your Sanity in 5 Easy Steps
Every teacher had one; it came with the first paycheck. The first item went as such:
1. Verbal Warning
Michael had a pretty good idea that Amanda had tried this more than once. He also had a better idea that it hadn't worked. He went on to item number two.
2. Shout
Amanda had tried this one too, no doubt, but Michael thought it was worth another shot. "MR. GRAY, MR. BARRINGER: GET IN YOUR SEATS AND SHUT YOUR MOUTHS!" Michael had been standing in front of the doorway ever since he'd walked into the room, and he now approached the pair of troublemakers.
"Ike! Get off you ass, and eento ze seat Amanda- I mean Professor Definstine asigned you. Zeep up your pants before I do eet myself! And trust me! Im not afraid to snag a beet of skeen een zat zeeper!"
After alotting the usual five seconds of blank staring in Elle's general direction (which happened to be directly above him and a huge strain on his neck), Ike mumbled dejectedly, "Go ahead... this cat's been shaved one too many times, if ya know what I mean." Elle most likely did not know what Ike meant. Had she stopped to consider it long enough, she might have realized that what he said could be interpreted many different ways. Maybe she realized that anyway. Regardless, she went on to talk to Malcom without trying to zip up Ike's pants, and Ike took that as a sign that she knew his weiner was too small. He sniffled and continued to lie on the floor.
--
When Ellendie Flor burst into the History of Magic classroom three floors below, Michael Dubois was teaching his students about the effects of World War II on the wizarding world. It was a topic he found interesting and he really hated to pause the class, but he figured it was urgent and stopped the lecture to talk to her.
According to Elle, the Mythology and Legends class was out of control and Professor Definstine had gone to hide in her office. There were a few fine points in this that Michael could simply not grasp and that was... well, that was all of it, really. First and foremost, he knew Amanda to be a very assertive, self-confident woman who could easily control a group of teenagers. She was more assertive then he was, Michael knew that much. Secondly, he couldn't imagine her retreating from anything.
But that was the student Amanda that he knew so well, not the professor. And Michael knew that Elle was not lying. He gave his class a page number and told them to read quietly out of their textbooks until he returned; then he left with Elle for the Mythology classroom.
Michael could hear a faint murmering of noises leaking through the classroom door when he got there, but when he entered, it wasn't as chaotic as he'd expected it to be. Most of the students were acting responsibility in the absence of a professor--some were reading, others were doodling on the parchment that Michael assumed that they had planned to use for notes. There looked to be no foreign substances in the vicinity, like blood or... otherwise, but as Michael scanned his surroundings he came upon the problem: It was concentrated at the front of the room, like a tumor, where a few desks had gone askew. One of said desks was lying on top of Ike Barringer, who was, oddly enough, sprawled on the floor. Or maybe it wasn't so odd. Anyway, that was only one-half of the problem. The other half, Malcom Gray, was having a conversation with Ruana Sremmos nearby. On second thought, Michael decided that it probably wasn't so much of a conversation as a one-way spew of garbage.
Michael frowned. Even he had trouble dealing with Malcom and Ike. The best solution he had ever been able to come up with was to try to be stupider than they were, if that low of a IQ was, in fact, achievable. Of course, Michael didn't really feel like being an idiot, so he decided to start from the beginning, just to see what worked and what didn't. No need to kill off brain cells if it wasn't necessary.
"Tell Professor Definstine to come out here, please," he told Elle, then he began to recall his mental checklist:
How to Save Your Sanity in 5 Easy Steps
Every teacher had one; it came with the first paycheck. The first item went as such:
1. Verbal Warning
Michael had a pretty good idea that Amanda had tried this more than once. He also had a better idea that it hadn't worked. He went on to item number two.
2. Shout
Amanda had tried this one too, no doubt, but Michael thought it was worth another shot. "MR. GRAY, MR. BARRINGER: GET IN YOUR SEATS AND SHUT YOUR MOUTHS!" Michael had been standing in front of the doorway ever since he'd walked into the room, and he now approached the pair of troublemakers.