Disclaimer: Once Upon a Time there was a girl named Cloudy. She did not own Dead Poets Society. The End.
Living Like A Dead Poet
Chapter 1: Toast
Making Toast Like a Dead Poet:
"For the love of god Meeks hurry up!" Charlie whined waiting in line for the toaster while Meeks ran through his third piece of bread. The other two lying rejected on the counter in a puddle of crumbs. "Hey! Can I have these!" Charlie shouted snatching up the discarded pieces.
"Sure." Meeks replied still engrossed in the delicate task of perfectly toasting his bread. He was determined to get that perfect golden brown. Even if that meant commendering the toaster for the rest of breakfast. Or if worse came to worse he might have to build his own, it would be the only way he could be sure it would be perfect.
Of course the quest for the perfect piece of toast, while noble, is not exactly a social cause so Meeks was abadoned by the rest of his cohorts who had been satisfied with subpar quality and returned to their table. Neil had ate and ran, off to be the president of something or other along with Todd who he had been forcibly dragging along, but everyone else was still gathered.
Knox had scarfed his toast down whole and was now complaining of some esophagus scrapping, at least that's what his clawing at his throat seemed to suggest. Meeks now understood why Charlie had wanted his disgaurded toast as now he was flicking it at Cameron who had opted instead for Helton's famous oatmeal, a congealed grey substance rumored to be the main adhesisive holding the building together.
He was brought out of his musing by the heavenly sound of the toaster ejecting it's toast. Meeks held his breath before carefully plucking out the slice and craddling it within his hands before raising it to the sky worshipfully.
"I've done it! I've done it!" He cried running back towards the table arm raise majestically in a fist pump. "The perfect piece of toast! They said it could never be done! But I've proved them wrong!"
His enthusiasm was not mutual. Meeks blinked behind his glasses dejectedly. "Hello? Toast? Perfect? Anyone care? Pittsie?" He turned to his best friend who instead of his usually dreamy expression was now glaring slightly.
"No, I don't care. And you know why? Because I hate toast! Yes! There I've said it! All it is is just bread that you've warmed up, it's just bread Meeks!" And with that uncharacteristic outburst Pitts snatched The Perfect Toast from Meeks' hands and threw it on the ground before stomping off.
Meeks whimpered.
A.N. After much wait and anticipation they are finally here! So here's how it's going to work everyone, I'm going to be doing these in the order of How To which means that How To is having a break until I can get a few of these going. But on a good note, I'd really like your imput on which of the Poets reactions you'd like me to focus on for each chapter. We'll try that out and see how it goes. I'm feeling positive about this.
-C
