hehe, sorry for no updates ~ i kinda forgot about this one. Anyways, since Franky is much older than the rest of his crew, i immediately thought of him as a teacher xD

Mr. Franky the Speedo Pervert:

As if the student body didn't contain enough insanity for this accursed place, the teachers all had to be full-blown nut jobs as well. Well, I guess not all – there were a few examples who'd managed to avoid catching the insanity, but the number was small enough for me to count on one hand.

And the one who seemed to be vying for the title of "The Ultimate Weirdo" was the wood-shop instructor, Mr. Franky Flam – though he usually urged everyone to call him Mr. Franky instead, since he thought Flam sounded like a gross disease.

His massive form squeezed through the open office doorway – seriously, his arms looked more like cannons than flesh, and his upper body was ridiculously dis-proportioned to his skinny chicken-legs. And as if his oddly dis-proportioned body wasn't eye-catching enough, his hair was dyed a vibrant blue and gelled to stand almost straight up, like some homage to a 60's hairdo. At the moment he was wearing a regular collared shirt with an atrocious olive green flowery pattern – but the call I just received a few minutes ago from an outraged mother said that this wasn't how he usually dressed.

"Yo! You called for me Missy K?" He said as he pushed his sunglasses higher up on his large nose.

"Don't call me that Mr. Franky," I said tiredly, "I'm Miss Keats, or Suzanne if you really have to be informal."

He just gave a bellowing laugh and crossed his massive arms over his wide chest, "So what's goin' on?"

I ran a hand through my messy brown hair and just stared at the gargantuan man. The students all really seemed to like him – probably because he had the same crazy running through his veins as they all did. They called him the Cyborg for reasons unbeknownst to me, and truthfully I couldn't care less what they called him…all I cared about was what the parents had called to tell me.

"Mr. Franky…I've received quite a few calls from concerned parents. I'd really love to think that it wasn't true, but a few of them said that you've shown up to class in nothing but a Speedo. Can you please, please tell me that it's some sort of joke, or lie?"

He let out a huffy breath, "Of course that's not true!"

I let out a sigh, "Oh, thank God – I thought that –" but my relief was quickly snuffed out by the bulky teacher.

"I was wearing a shirt as well," He informed me with a proud smile.

I buried my face in my hands for a few seconds, trying to figure out how the hell I was going to address this situation…and also wondering for the billionth time what I had done to deserve such a horrible punishment as this job. Finally I came up for air, and neatly folded my hands on the desk in front of me, "Was there any sort of reason for this strange fashion statement?"

"It was a Tuesday," he answered nonchalantly.

"What does that have to do with anything?!"

"Hmmm, Casual Tuesdays?"

I frowned, "That's a horrible excuse."

The shop-teacher tapped at his temple with one of his fingers, which also seemed bulky with muscle, "Well, I'm also the swim coach, so wouldn't it be normal for me to wear my swimming gear?"

"Swimming season doesn't start until spring, Mr. Franky." I shook my head and just stared in disbelief at the man.

He sighed and crossed his arms again, "Anyways, I don't see what the problem is."

"It's not normal for teachers to parade around in Speedos – you could get sued for sexual harassment, or something."

"They think I'm a pervert?" he asked with an oddly giddy voice.

"Why are you happy about that?! You're not the one who's been getting all the weird calls from the parents!"

"Yo, relax Missy K – you'll blow a blood vessel." He raised his hands and made fanning motions as if that would somehow help cool my temper.

"I wonder who's fault that would be," I muttered and ran my fingers through my disheveled hair, "Alright – I'll come up with some excuse for the parents, but you have to promise that you won't wear your Speedo to class again, alright? Don't teachers have some sort of dress code that they have to follow…like wearing pants, for example?"

"But pants cramp my style," he complained.

"I really don't care – just keep them on from now on."

He sighed and nodded, "Fine, fine ~ have it your way." He turned and squeezed his hulking figure out of my doorway.

I slouched in my seat and wondered if there was something in the water that made everyone here completely insane.

I decided that bottled water was definitely a necessity, if I wanted to put off catching the crazy for very long…

So Decent? Interesting? Horrible? ~ You should tell me xD