Two prestigious experts judge the paintings of Oliver's art students.

.

Oliver walked into his classroom of art students and proudly stood in front of his class which consisted of five students: Kai, Johnny, Bryan, Garland and Enrique. He was a little disappointed with the numbers; he expected full classes, but the small number of people would have to do. "Okay boys it's time to draw! Get out your paper and your pencils!"

The class of five cheered happily. Drawing was fun especially with Oliver. Oliver never made fun of paintings created by his students; he loved and deeply admired them all. Because he loved them so much, he hosted a short contest at the end of each painting session. Special guest Robert Jurgen would drop by and judge the paintings giving his expert advice for each painting. "All right boys, let's get started!"

Oliver pulled out his magnificent paint set and drew a perfect replica of the Mona Lisa. How Oliver learnt how to paint like an expert was dumbfounding; some like Johnny accused Oliver of resorting to witchcraft to enhance his skills, but of course that was just a load of crap. Magic didn't exist. Oliver didn't cheat. Was it his fault he was a master painter? A very glamorous one at that. "Now remember, you can use any colour you want to. Be creative and don't be afraid to use your imagination."

The students began to paint and Oliver decided to walk around the classroom to get some kind of an idea of their paintings. Johnny was drawing what looked to be a sunset. "That is beautiful Johnny," he commented, giving Johnny a pat on the shoulder. Johnny grinned. He was happy Oliver liked his drawing.

Oliver moved onto the next person: Kai. Kai drew a picture of a blue bird. Oliver suspected the bird was meant to be Dranzer... a blue version of Dranzer. "I like your style Kai!" Oliver said truthfully. Kai wasn't a bad painter.

He moved onto Bryan. Bryan was scribbling madly. Oliver peered over his shoulder and his eyes widened with surprise at the black circle on the page. "That is an interesting picture you have there Bryan, what is it meant to be?"

Bryan smiled up at Oliver. "It's a painting of Boris."

Oliver blinked. "That is a wonderful interpretation of Boris! You truly have the mind of an abstract artist," he complimented Bryan. Bryan smiled again. He was very pleased. Enrolling in art classes was the best thing he had ever done. Oliver moved onto the fourth person. "That is a wonderful painting of cabbage Garland," Oliver said, eyeing the green blob on Garland's paper.

"Thanks Oliver, it was quite hard to draw," Garland said, wiping his brow. Painting and drawing were indeed very hard things to do. Usually he spent time on martial arts, but he had decided to give the creative arts a shot. And he was glad he did. After harmonica playing failed him, he really needed something else to calm his mind.

Oliver walked over to the final person. "Enrique, that is a lovely photo of a pineapple!" he remarked. Enrique was well on the way onto becoming a famous painter; it was just unfortunate he had more of an interest in looking at ladies than promoting his paintings and drawings. "

Enrique smiled big. "Thanks Oliver, I'm thinking of giving it to either Rosette or Bianca as a gift."

Oliver smiled. That was a lovely idea. "Okay students, it's time to go the Hall of Shame now!" The Hall of Shame was the name given by Robert. The Hall consisted of many paintings and drawings done by the students. The five art students happily finished off their drawings and quickly followed Oliver to the Hall of Shame were Robert awaited them. He did not look pleased.

"Robert! Will you judge the paintings and drawings done by the nice children in my class?"

Robert sighed. He could've been at the pub now, but he didn't want to turn his back on Oliver. He sighed again. "Of course, I would love to judge the paintings. What painting is first?"

Johnny ran over to Robert and handed him his painting. "Here we have a rendering of a sunset by Jonathan. Well..." Robert started, analysing the painting of a pink and white triangle sun. It was truly awful. Johnny looked at Robert with eager anticipation. "I'd have to say that this picture...is...deplorable! I utterly despite it! Look at how crude those colours are! The sun is a circle – not a triangle! Did you think you were an artist or something, Jonathan?! You disgust me!" Robert crunched his painting into a paper ball and threw it away into the nearby trashcan. Johnny's mouth dropped open. He had worked very hard to draw that pink and yellow sunset! He ran out of the room, tears in his eyes.

"That wasn't very nice!" Oliver remarked.

"Next painting." He wondered if this one was going to be even worse than Johnny's. Kai walked over to Robert and gave him his painting of his blue Dranzer. Robert analysed it. He quickly came up with an opinion. "This was drawn by Kai... and do you know what I think?" he asked, looking at Kai intensely. Kai shook his head, his eyes never leaving Robert's face. "I think it is impossible! How could anyone be this horrible at art?! It bewilders me!"

Kai was heartbroken. Oliver looked at him sympathetically. "It... isn't that bad."

"NEXT PAINTING!"

Bryan hurriedly handed his drawing of Boris to Robert. Robert glanced at it and wrinkled his nose in disgust. Just when he thought things couldn't get worse. "This was drawn by Bryan. I would tell you what it is... if it was actually something! What is this? A black scribble?!"

"It's Boris," Bryan remarked, hurt. He thought his black scribble represented the darkness of Boris's mind. Robert pointed to the door and Bryan walked out, head hung low. At least Robert didn't crunch up his painting.

"This drawing was done by Garland," he said, before glancing down at the paper. "It is a loathsome creation! I despite it! Throw it away into the dungeon of horrible artwork!" he exclaimed, throwing the paper on the floor. How could anyone be so horrible at art? It was even worse than Jonathan's horrid drawing!

"I thought it was nicely done..." Oliver mumbled, trying to rebuild Garland's shattered confidence. Garland sniffed and exited the room. Robert suspected he was going to join Johnny in crying fits. What uncouth scoundrels.

Enrique ran up to Robert and gave his painting to his captain. Robert was scared to glance down at the painting, but he found the courage to look. He wished he hadn't. "This last drawing was done by Enrique... what is this horrible thing meant to be?!" Robert demanded, finger pointing at the prickly object.

"A pineapple!" Enrique replied happily.

"IT IS DESPICABLE AND TRULY AN INSULT TO ALL ART! BURN IT IMMEDIATELY!" Robert shouted. "Why can't anyone in this class draw?!" Enrique burst out into tears and ran out of the room crying like a little girl. Robert shook his head. They were all terribly uncouth.

Oliver looked at Robert and sighed. "They were all good paintings Robert. You're such a critic." And he left the room to chase down and comfort his lovely students.

.

Things were just a little more than tense than usual at Robert's castle. Johnny had locked himself up in his room crying about 'a nasty German with a big nose' while Enrique was busy sulking. His girlfriends had dumped him; they did not like his painting of a pineapple. Oliver really wanted to comfort them both, to say nice words to lift their self-esteem, but Robert would not allow it.

"Robert, you hurt their feelings," Oliver said, giving Robert an accusing glare.

Robert shook his head, then leaned back in his chair, placing his feet on the table. It was very un-Robert like... but the table was bought by Johnny as a gift so he didn't care if he made it dirty. "Their paintings were horrible! They will forever be locked away in the Hall of Shame!" he said.

"I hope you're not so mean to the next group of students."

"I will not be judging the paintings today. I am playing a game of blackjack down at the casino later with Brooklyn. Someone else will take my place for the judging," Robert replied, removing his feet from the table. He glanced around the chair and added, "He is a very strict judge. Even tougher than I am. I hope your lousy students are less lousy than the last set. Who do you have anyway?"

Oliver reached down into the pockets of his jacket and pulled out a list. Once again, there were five students in his class. Tala, Tyson, Max, Mystel and Michael. The numbers were low, but people were probably too scared to have their paintings thrown into the Hall of Shame. He wondered if this group would fare any better with the judging panel. "Well, I hope you have fun. See you later then." Robert muttered a 'goodbye' as Oliver raced to his blimp. Why drive when you can fly?

Later that day...

All five students smiled as Oliver entered the classroom, their paintbrushes ready to express their creativity. Oliver smiled in return, "Hello everyone! I'm glad you could make it today. You can use any colour you want. Be creative and don't be afraid to use your imagination," he said.

The students all cheered and immediately started to paint. Oliver gave them at least five minutes, before he started his usual 'walk around the class and examine the paintings' routine. He first visited Tyson. Tyson was busy dabbing his brush into the paints and throwing it at the paper. "What are you painting, Tyson?" Oliver said, peering over his shoulder, examining Tyson's masterpiece.

Tyson grinned, "It's a painting of me winning the beyblade cup for the third time!" he declared, pointing at a mass of random blobs. Oliver assumed the red, yellow and grey blob was Tyson, while the strange mix of brown and yellow resembled the trophy.

"It was truly beautiful, Tyson."

"Thanks, Oliver. I love painting."

Oliver moved away from Tyson and onto Max. Max was a little less excited than Tyson, but he was still making a mess. Various blobs of random colours were present on the paper and on his skin. "I'm painting my family. This is mum," he said, pointing to the tall yellow line, "and this is dad," he added, pointing to the brown line standing next to Judy, "and this is me," he said, pointing to the small yellow line standing in between the two taller lines.

Oliver gushed. "That is very sweet. You have a nice family."

"I know, right?" Max replied, giving Oliver a big wide smile.

Now it was time to visit Tala. Oliver wondered if he would show the same amount of talent his teammates Bryan and Kai had shown in their class. The red head Russian was cackling to himself, as he stabbed the paper with his brush. "What is that you are painting?"

Tala smirked, "This is me." Oliver really couldn't see the resemblance. Tala didn't have rippling, bulging muscles nor did he have a defined six pack, but he did at least get the hair right. "I'm so sexy."

"The resemblance is striking," Oliver commented. With time and dedicated training, Tala could probably be like the person he painted. He decided to move on to the fourth student. Michael. The American captain seemed a little unsure of the paintbrush in his hand, as if he didn't know what to do with it. Just as Oliver was ready to go and help, Michael started to paint. Must be in deep concentration mode, Oliver thought.

Michael's painting was of a big bird. It looked like a chicken, but Oliver assumed it was meant to be his bitbeast, Trygle. "Magnifique!" Oliver said, gushing at the sight of the chicken.

"It's great, isn't it? I didn't realize painting could be this fun!"

"I am glad you are enjoying it."

Now he moved over to the last student, Mystel. The blond seemed to be having a good time attacking the paper with his brush. "What did you paint?" Oliver asked, glancing over. He couldn't really quite see anything other than a mass mix of colours in the shape of a circle.

"Destruction!"

Oliver wasn't sure where the connection was, but he did like the way Mystel mixed the colours. "Good job! I'm sure the judge will be happy."

"Will Robert be judging?" Tyson asked, his bottom lip trembling slightly.

Oliver shook his head. "No, someone else is. I'm not sure who the person is though, but I guess we will find out very soon... oh, here they come!" All the students looked to the door with eager anticipation, wondering who the judge would be. Oliver hoped it was someone nice, like Gramps or Stanley, but Robert's warning came back to him. Who could be colder than Robert when it came to judging painting?

The person entered the room.

One of the students, Max, screamed. Tyson almost fell out of his chair. The other three simply stared, speechless. Even Oliver found it hard to speak, but he knew he had to greet the judge. "Hello, Boris."

Boris stormed over to the front desk and glared at the students. "I'm here to judge paintings."

"Er, yes. I hope you find them to your liking, they are quite a talented group," Oliver said, hoping Boris would get the hint and be nice. But this was Boris, he wasn't a nice man, unless he was talking to the ladies.

Boris walked over to Tala first, and examined the painting with close scrutiny. "You foolish child, you do not look anything like that! You are skinny and weak. Do not try to boost your low self-esteem with wishful portrayals like this!"

Tala cowered under Boris' glare. Boris was really mean.

Next, Boris visited Max. "Your painting is stupid, child. Your family is broken; do you think this painting will bring them back together? Your parents would be ashamed of this piece. This painting must go to the Hall of Shame immediately!" he announced. Max sniffed, bit his bottom lip, then ran out of the room in tears.

Tyson was next. "Ah, the beyblading champion." Boris brought his face close to the painting and drew back immediately. "This proves it – you have no other talent other than blading. What is this meant to be?"

"Me winning the trophy," Tyson squeaked.

"Wrong! It is a painting of stupidity! Throw it away!"

Tyson buried his face in his hands, trying his hardest not to cry. He was going to give it to Hilary to hang up on her wall...

Michael watched Boris with wide eyes as the purple haired man stormed over, a glare on his face. Boris looked at the painting and laughed, "Your bitbeast I assume? This is an accurate painting... your pathetic bitbeast is a chicken!" Michael really wanted to argue back, but this was Boris, so he decided to hold his tongue and sob to himself instead.

Finally, Boris visited Mystel. Boris didn't have high hopes for the idiotic blond. He glanced down at the painting and almost gave himself a mental high five. He was, as usual, correct. The blond was an idiot. "What is this?"

"Destruction!"

"You are wrong. This is," Boris ripped the painting of its board and tore it apart with his hands, throwing the remains onto the ground, "destruction!" He then crushed the paper under his shoes while Mystel looked on in horror. "You are all pathetic! I will have these fools brought to the Hall of Shame so everyone will know what terrible painters they are!"

Oliver wanted to come to the defence of his painters, but nothing came to mind. He could only watch in helplessness as some of Boris' guards entered the room to take the students away. Robert was correct – he was quite nice in comparison to Boris. "I hope I never see Boris again," Oliver thought darkly. No one deserved to have their hard work destroyed like that. I'm going to save what I can from the Hall of Shame... hey, maybe I'll buy them all!"

And Oliver exited the room.

He would save every painting he could.

.

I wrote this story way back in 2011. The memories, and a period of time in which most of the parody stories in Beyblade were from me. Those were the days.