Fourth period, right after lunch, is the worst time to have class. It
is especially bad on double cheese pizza day, as Ron is about to find
out. The combination of food lethargy and inept teaching is a
dangerous combination.
"Ok, class, who read Le Petit Prince last night?" says Mr. Barkin,
butchering the pronunciation. He looks at the book, flips through
the pages of incomprehensible text, and sighs. Surely the Middleton
high school has substitute teachers better qualified to teach French.
A student raises a hand. "Uhhh, Mr. Barkin, Mrs. Conners teaches this
class in French." Mr. Barkin looks at the clock on the wall. His gut
tightens up, dreading the next forty minutes.
He slams the small paperback close. "Well, I'm not Mrs. Conners, am
I?," he says, his booming voice silencing the student. "Now, who read
the book last night?" He waves the book around like a pointer of
doom.
Ron Stoppable, unlike the others, is occupied and unable to respond.
He is currently sleeping, eyes open enough for plausible deniability.
And at the moment, he thinks he is saving Kim Possible from a fate
considerably better than death. All things considered, it is a dream
with great potential.
"Oh please, will someone out there save me?" says Kim in his dreams.
The weather is tropically pleasant, a beautiful sunset on a deserted
beach. Dream Kim is bound to a palm tree.
"Kim, you're tied to the tree with dental floss," says Ron, who sets
aside a paper sack of Bueno Nacho takeout. He pauses, looks at the
warm bag, and then looks at the miles of pristine beach. He stops
any further thought on the subject to avoid a headache.
Kim struggles and tries to pull herself away from the tree, but the
floss somehow manages to holdfast. "I think it's the shred resistant
ones that cost a couple bucks more," she says, blushing. She tugs
against the palm tree, her efforts to free herself apparently futile.
"It's dental floss!" says Ron. He has shred plenty of floss in his
time and knows the expensive brands shred just as easily as the
cheaper ones. Nevertheless, he knows he is dreaming and ignores the
disjointed logic.
A wicked idea comes to mind, and he takes a step back to admire Kim.
"Eyes front and center, Ron Stoppable!" she says. He sighs. Even
in his own
dreams, he can not misbehave.
He looks at the floss again. "KP, shred resistant does not mean shred
proof," he says. He rakes his hand against the floss, popping through
effortlessly.
Kim wipes the disjoint strands of floss off and hugs him. "Oh, Ron,
thank you for saving me," she says. She takes the bag of takeout and
reaches in. "Now it's time for your reward"
Ron salivates as she takes out a naco tray. He opens his mouth
anticipating the most perfect girl in the world to serve him a warm
naco. She opens tears open the cardboard tray, scoots closer, then
delivers the entire contents of the tray against his face.
The naco yields against his face and then bursts, delivering a thick
amalgam of nacho cheese, beef, and tortilla. "Mmmmm," he says, as he
licks his lips and enjoys the torrent of warm liquified cheese that
pooled on his upper lip.
He feels around. "It's my turn now, KP," he says, still feeling
around for the bag. His hands eventually find Kim Possible, and he is
able find the bag by using her body as a reference. He reaches into
the bag, finds another package of nacos, and returns the favor.
Kim giggles as he successfully introduces the naco to her face.
"Mmmm, Ron, you're such a dirty boy," she says. He drops the empty
cardboard husk on the ground and wipes away the warm cheese from his
eyes to admire his handiwork.
Ron again pauses, looks down at the small naco tray, and then stares
at Kim. Somehow that one naco had enough nacho cheese to coat Kim
from head to toe, and Ron's stomach twists itself in anticipation. He
is hungry again.
"Ah, KP, didn't we just have lunch?" he asks. "Why am I hungry again?"
Kim wipes the cheese from her eyes and reaches down for the bag. She
rummages through the endless sack. "Ron, this is your dream. Why
would you care about overeating," she says with a smile. She pulls
out a burrito, sits Ron down on the fine, warm sand, and brings it to
his lips.
"Ah, I don't know, I'm pretty sure I had plenty of lunch. Double
cheese pizza day you know?" says Ron as he stares crosseyed at
the
burrito in Kim's hand.
"Ron," she says, starting to pout.
"Man, that's so unfair, this is my dream," he says.
"Ron, please." She pushes the burrito against his lips.
"But, Kim," he says. She takes advantage and pushes it in. He takes
a token bite, nibbles at it, savors the flavor, and exaggerates his
appreciation. He takes hold of the burrito, and takes it from her.
"Mmmmmmmmmmmm. Happy now, KP"
She frowns. "Ron," she says.
"What, KP"
"Ron Stoppable?" She is more perturbed and starts shaking him.
"Yes!" he says. Her hand intercepts his hand holding the burrito.
She brings it to her mouth and then bites down on his index finger.
"Owwww! Owwww!" cries Ron. He stands up straight, but jams up in his
desk halfway. Papers and a saliva soaked copy of Le Petit Prince end
up on the floor. Rufus unleashes a litant of naked mole rat curses
from the floor, picks himself up, and climbs back onto the desk.
"Ron Stoppable, what on earth are you saying and doing?" says
Mr. Barkin, his face turning red. Ron hems and haws, not sure what he
said during his nap in class.
Ron looks around. He looks behind at Kim for help, but she is seated
low in her chair, trying to disappear. Obviously, whatever he said
while sleeping was not exactly kosher. The rest of class is focused
on him and giggling.
"Oh man, more homework?" he asks, blushing.
"And detention and a trip to the principal's office."