"...And that concludes our lecture for today," said Mr. Namek as he finished reading the last page of lecture notes Gohan had given him. "Are there any questions?"
All 83 of the students were pale. They were either utterly immobile or shaking in their seats. Not one replied to him, or indeed, made any noise at all.
"Good. Your homework assignment for tomorrow is to read chapters six, seven, and eight. There *will* be a test." In the entire history of academia, perhaps no other instructor had managed to imbue those five words with as much menace.
One brave pupil managed to speak. "U-Um...Mister Namek sir? We don't have class again until the day after tomorrow."
"Oh?" He checked a different sheet of paper. "I see you are correct." The students began to relax. They could read three chapters in two days. It'd be annoying, but they could do it.
"In that case," the substitute continued, "Read chapters six, seven, eight, nine, ten, and eleven."
***
"How did class go?" Gohan asked. The scholar was beginning to feel better, but Videl (still displaying a strain of overprotectiveness rivaling her mother-in-law's) had decided he wasn't well enough yet to leave the bed.
"It went fine," said Piccolo, who was leaning against a wall, watching with some amusement as Videl spoon-fed her husband soup. "I lectured from the notes you gave me and assigned some reading."
"Students didn't cause any problems, did they?"
"Oh, they were a bit unrestful at first, but I soon persuaded them to be quiet and listen."
"I'm sure you did," Gohan said, chuckling at the mental images that had been conjured up. "Thanks again, Piccolo-san."
"It's nothing," the Namek said, shrugging as he did so. "But I do have a question. Do you have that test I'm supposed to administer?" The half-Saiyan opened his mouth to reply, but his wife slipped the spoon in there before he could get a word out. After he swallowed the soup and she took out the utensil, he spoke.
"Right, the test. On the table in the living room. Get about 90 copies printed in the copy room tomorrow."
"I will do that. I shall see you tomorrow," he said, nodding at the couple.
"Be sure to yell at Nappa on your way out," Videl called after him.
"What did he do?"
"Nothing. But a good yelling keeps him in line."
Smiling despite himself, he walked to the table. He picked up the test, which seemed rather thick. But Gohan knew what he was doing.
The young Saiyan royalty heard a brief yell of "NAPPA!" and then the sound of the front door closing. They chuckled for a moment, and then a brief look of worry crossed Videl's face.
"Uh-oh. You forgot to tell him that that's really four different tests lumped together, so that you could discourage cheating."
"Well, Piccolo-san's smart. I'm sure he'll figure it out."
"Yeah." She yawned. "Do you mind if I get a little sleep?"
"Of course not! Here, come on in."
"I meant on the couch," she said wryly. "At least you're getting back to normal."
***
The day of the test came.
"Next," called Hatsujou, the cantankerous elderly lady who served as the copy room secretary. When the green man, who towered at least six inches above everyone else in the room, stepped forward, she didn't bat an eye. "Whaddya need copied?"
He slammed a huge stack of papers down on the desk. "I need 90 copies of this test for Professor Son's class."
***
The students flinched when Mr. Namek announced his arrival by slamming open the doors to the classroom. Wasting no time on formalities, he gave every student a test, walked to the front of the room, and said in a flat yet somehow still potentially lethal tone, "Begin."
As all students do, they thumbed through the test to see what to tackle first. As they went on, and the questions continued to pile up, one by one they began to faint. At last, there was only one still conscious.
"M-Mister Namek, this must be some mistake. There's m-more than 300 questions here! Professor Son usually gives us only about 75 or so!"
Mr. Namek snarled. "Professor Son wrote that test himself! There is no mistake! I have known him since he was four and a half, and I have personally taught him for four years! I know him far better than any of you ever will! DO YOU QUESTION ME?"
Pause.
"I didn't think so."
All 83 of the students were pale. They were either utterly immobile or shaking in their seats. Not one replied to him, or indeed, made any noise at all.
"Good. Your homework assignment for tomorrow is to read chapters six, seven, and eight. There *will* be a test." In the entire history of academia, perhaps no other instructor had managed to imbue those five words with as much menace.
One brave pupil managed to speak. "U-Um...Mister Namek sir? We don't have class again until the day after tomorrow."
"Oh?" He checked a different sheet of paper. "I see you are correct." The students began to relax. They could read three chapters in two days. It'd be annoying, but they could do it.
"In that case," the substitute continued, "Read chapters six, seven, eight, nine, ten, and eleven."
***
"How did class go?" Gohan asked. The scholar was beginning to feel better, but Videl (still displaying a strain of overprotectiveness rivaling her mother-in-law's) had decided he wasn't well enough yet to leave the bed.
"It went fine," said Piccolo, who was leaning against a wall, watching with some amusement as Videl spoon-fed her husband soup. "I lectured from the notes you gave me and assigned some reading."
"Students didn't cause any problems, did they?"
"Oh, they were a bit unrestful at first, but I soon persuaded them to be quiet and listen."
"I'm sure you did," Gohan said, chuckling at the mental images that had been conjured up. "Thanks again, Piccolo-san."
"It's nothing," the Namek said, shrugging as he did so. "But I do have a question. Do you have that test I'm supposed to administer?" The half-Saiyan opened his mouth to reply, but his wife slipped the spoon in there before he could get a word out. After he swallowed the soup and she took out the utensil, he spoke.
"Right, the test. On the table in the living room. Get about 90 copies printed in the copy room tomorrow."
"I will do that. I shall see you tomorrow," he said, nodding at the couple.
"Be sure to yell at Nappa on your way out," Videl called after him.
"What did he do?"
"Nothing. But a good yelling keeps him in line."
Smiling despite himself, he walked to the table. He picked up the test, which seemed rather thick. But Gohan knew what he was doing.
The young Saiyan royalty heard a brief yell of "NAPPA!" and then the sound of the front door closing. They chuckled for a moment, and then a brief look of worry crossed Videl's face.
"Uh-oh. You forgot to tell him that that's really four different tests lumped together, so that you could discourage cheating."
"Well, Piccolo-san's smart. I'm sure he'll figure it out."
"Yeah." She yawned. "Do you mind if I get a little sleep?"
"Of course not! Here, come on in."
"I meant on the couch," she said wryly. "At least you're getting back to normal."
***
The day of the test came.
"Next," called Hatsujou, the cantankerous elderly lady who served as the copy room secretary. When the green man, who towered at least six inches above everyone else in the room, stepped forward, she didn't bat an eye. "Whaddya need copied?"
He slammed a huge stack of papers down on the desk. "I need 90 copies of this test for Professor Son's class."
***
The students flinched when Mr. Namek announced his arrival by slamming open the doors to the classroom. Wasting no time on formalities, he gave every student a test, walked to the front of the room, and said in a flat yet somehow still potentially lethal tone, "Begin."
As all students do, they thumbed through the test to see what to tackle first. As they went on, and the questions continued to pile up, one by one they began to faint. At last, there was only one still conscious.
"M-Mister Namek, this must be some mistake. There's m-more than 300 questions here! Professor Son usually gives us only about 75 or so!"
Mr. Namek snarled. "Professor Son wrote that test himself! There is no mistake! I have known him since he was four and a half, and I have personally taught him for four years! I know him far better than any of you ever will! DO YOU QUESTION ME?"
Pause.
"I didn't think so."