Treating Tricksters

Like earth's rotations around the sun or an IRS audit, it was a simple fact of life that William Lancer was not a man who was easily scared. Whether it was an hour-long infomercial or the latest slasher flick, the man could sit through anything. Anything. This ability was crucial for any high school teacher. Especially a high school senior teacher. The simple act of being able to withstand the Gossip Goddess and her chosen beau for forty-five minutes a day, five days a week, was comparable to any superpower ever written about or witnessed.
It was a longstanding tradition for the students with the pleasure of having Lancer as a teacher to attempt to scare him. So far, none had ever succeeded. From cheap party gags to state-of-the-art sound systems, nothing was good enough. Nothing was shocking enough.

So, when Friday, October 31st rolled around, Lancer brushed aside the cobwebs at the door, flicked the prerequisite spider off his chair, and rolled his eyes at the moaning noise-maker underneath his desk.

"Nice try," he remarked casually to the class at large. A few groans wove among the desks. Some still hoped that their "surprise falling skeletons" or the advanced holographic ghost that would appear at the window might be just the right thing. But the stoic teacher merely opened up to Macbeth and began to lecture about "real witches."

"Dude, I spent four hours on that thing!" Tucker Foley groaned when Lancer didn't even flinch at the banshee rippling into existence beside him. "This is bogus. That man cannot be human. Did your ghost sense ever go off around him, Danny?"

"Not once," the raven haired teen beside the techno-wiz replied. Tucker glanced at his face.

"You look really tired, man. Late night ghost fight?"

Danny laughed. "Not exactly."

"Don't tell me you unlocked the new level of Doomed!" Tucker looked positively aghast.

"You know I can't beat level thirty-one without you."

Tucker still glanced at Danny suspiciously. But he had no idea why his lazy, sleep-loving friend would ever forsake a few z's when it wasn't absolutely necessary. (Heck, he wouldn't forsake them even if it was necessary!)

He waited. Seconds slipped by as ravens 'cawed,' balloons burst, and flour-y sacks dropped from strings on the ceiling. Even the students weren't scared at this point.

"Alright," Tucker finally conceded to his best friend. "Maybe I get why Lancer doesn't freak out. This is getting on my nerves. Did you try anything, Danny?"

Danny flicked an eyebrow up. Then he raised his hand.

Lancer looked at his slacking pupil with the same suspicion Tucker had. "Yes Mr. Fenton?"

"I have something for you," he said simply. Lancer gazed at him bemusedly, searching for yet another Hallow's Eve prank.

Danny returned from his bag, stacks of papers and workbooks slipping from his grasp. He stepped forward, and placed it all on Lancer's desk.

"And what might this be, Mr. Fenton?"

"All the homeworks that I missed."

Lancer froze. The class leaned forward. The educator blinked for a moment, glancing back and forth between all the work and Danny. His hands and face were white.

He fainted.

Danny grinned. He sauntered back to his seat.

The class applauded.

He gave Tucker a pointed look.

"And that is how you do it."

A/N: See? I LIVE! ~zombie walk~ Yeah, I've been resurrected by some mad scientist. Cool, hunh? He told me that, if I wanted to stay alive, I'd have to finish all my in-progress stories, in order to make up for my crappy Halloween special. Icouldn't help myself. No matter how short or shitty, DP deserves its Halloween story! (It only occurred to me after I finished writing that both are about Lancer. Weird, right?)

So the writing and the ridiculousness continues. I apologize to everyone waiting on GWB or even my Bacanno stuff. New chapters shall arrive!!!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN! =D

~me!~