The First Day is Always the Worst

"Okay listen up," John remarked as he walked into the classroom. "If you don't know by now the name's John Proudstar or Thunderbird. I've been conned into teaching you English Literature because I'm not good in math and science is more like Beast's thing. And you don't want to know what I think about so called 'American' History. So why don't we get to know each other by you telling me your names and what exactly you do? Myself I'm strong, fast and durable which is going to come in handy in the teaching profession."

The classroom was filled with mostly the 'New Recruits' and a few X-Men from the main team. "Bobby Drake," Bobby volunteered. "Iceman!" He made a small ice sculpture of himself."

"You're the one who froze my suitcase aren't you?" John glared at him.

"Heh…" Bobby chuckled nervously.

"Okay there's one on my list," John grunted. "Who's next? Which one of you blew up my car?"

Everyone looked at Tabitha. "That's me sir!" Tabitha saluted as she propped her feet up on the desk. "Private Boom Boom reporting for duty. Although to be fair I was aiming for Bobby Boy here."

"Oh well in that case I can understand it," John remarked. "Next time don't miss."

"Hey!" Bobby protested.

"Okay let's keep this going, next?" John asked.

"Ray Crisp, Berzerker. I shoot out lightning from my body."

"Amara Aquilla, Magma. I can create fire and control lava."

"Thornn. Just Thornn. I'm a feral. What you see is what you get."

"Jubilee, I make firecrackers," She demonstrated and nearly set fire to the desk. "Oops."

"So that's why we have so many fire extinguishers in this room," John remarked.

"Kurt Wagner, Nightcrawler. I teleport," He popped around the room and landed on John's desk. "Pretty neat ya?"

"Why Kurt I didn't know you cared," John said sarcastically. "Back to your seat. Now for the rest of you." He fanned away Kurt's smoke with his hand. "Geeze kid you gotta invest in an air freshener. Okay who are you?"

"I'm Jamie Madrox but they call me Multiple!"

"Why?" John asked. Jamie made several clones and all over the class. "Ask a stupid question."

"Rogue. I drain your life force and your powers through skin contact."

"Well isn't that lovely," John rolled his eyes.

"Paige Guthrie, I can shed my skin and change it to whatever I want."

"Gross," John remarked.

"Yeah but on the up side I can eat whatever I want and never gain weight," Paige told him.

"Sam Guthrie, Cannonball. I…"

"Never mind! I don't wanna know!" John held up his hand. "This is everyone? I thought there were a couple more of you?"

"Well Roberto, Kitty and Peter are in the Advanced English class with Mr. McCoy," Ray said. "And Remy keeps blowing up the textbooks so…"

"Never mind I'm sorry I asked!" John grumbled. "Okay so what the heck are we reading?"

"The Great Gatsby," Kurt told him. "Chapter 3."

"You gotta be kidding me? This is the same kind of crap they used to shove down my throat in high school!" John snorted. He threw away the book. "Forget this!"

"But it's The Great Gatsby," Amara said. "It's supposed to be a classic."

"Classic? Let me tell you about this so called classic!" John asked. "You know what it's about?"

"An exploration of the social classes and conditions in the 1920's?" Jubilee asked.

"The influence of society on an individual?" Kurt asked.

"People living their lives yearning for the past and all the problems it can cause?" Sam asked.

"Wrong!" John shouted. "Wrong! Wrong! I'll tell you what it's really about. It's about a self made man who's in love with this ditzy rich chick who's married to this snob who thinks he's better than everyone else. The self-made guy and the rich lady get it on until she runs over her husband's mistress. This Gatsby guy like a patsy takes the blame for the crime and ends up dead while Daisy and her loser husband go on their merry way as if nothing had happened. The moral: Rich upper class people for the most part are snobs and think they can do whatever they want while the rest of us working stiffs get the shaft. That's what this book is about."

"Wow I'm glad I didn't read it then," Ray remarked.

"But not all rich people are like that," Paige said. "I mean the Professor isn't…"

"Yeah well he's the exception that proves the rule okay?" John said. "He's like Gatsby. Somewhat down to earth but never really excepted. You know why Gatsby was never accepted?"

"Uh because he was a gangster?" Kurt asked.

"No it's because he wasn't good enough for those rich snobs," John said. Then he paused. "Okay maybe the gangster thing too but the point is there's no point in trying to impress high society. No matter how many great parties you throw or booze you score those people are always gonna look down on you so why bother? Oh yeah we're good enough to play their stupid games and pass around a football but do we get invited to all the parties? Noooooooo!"

"Uh, Mr. Proudstar…" Rogue blinked.

"I mean heaven forbid that an Indian ask out a team mate's sister to the friggn' prom!" John continued. "And does she appreciate you? No you're just some stupid ploy to make the ex-boyfriend jealous!"

"Mr. Proudstar I don't think we're…" Kurt gulped.

"You try to fit in," John kept ranting. "You get up a five am so you can drive to a school nearly an hour and a half away so you can get a better education and work your butt off. But does anyone give you a pat on the back for trying? No! You spend your whole day being looked down on and listening to enough stupid Tonto jokes that make you want to scalp the entire student body and then burn the building and everyone in it to the ground!"

"MR. PROUDSTAR!" Paige shouted. "COME BACK TO US!"

"Huh…?" John looked at them. "Sorry about that. Mind kind of wandered a bit. What was I talking about?"

"Uh…" Kurt gulped. "The Great Gatsby."

"Oh yeah that," John said. "Well forget about reading that book. Like I said it's a waste of time."

"But this is an English Literature class," Kurt said. "Aren't we supposed to be reading it?"

"You want literature huh?" John pulled a few books out of his bag and tossed them to the kids. "I thought something like this was gonna happen so I came prepared. Here's a few Tom Clancy novels, a little Steven King, and here's some Lawrence Lovelorn."

"Isn't he that Western writer who has a lot of gun battles and fights and all those scenes with the women in brothels?" Kurt asked. "Aren't we a little…?"

"Shut up man!" Ray whacked him on the back of the head with his book. "Don't argue with the teacher!"

"Yeah it's nothing you kids haven't seen in the movies or on the Internet," John scoffed.

"I think I've just learned to love English class," Rogue chuckled as she picked up a Steven King novel.

"Fine here's your assignment read your book and give me an oral book report on it in a couple of weeks because I don't wanna grade any papers," John waved. "Okay now let's get down to some real teaching. I think it's time you kids were properly instructed on stuff so you can be ready for the real world."

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"You're letting him teach an English class?" Scott asked Xavier in disbelief.

"Well why not?" Xavier asked him back.

"I'm not so sure that he's taking this seriously," Scott said. "He doesn't exactly seem like the instructor type. This looks like the disaster of Logan teaching Home Ec. all over again. There are still stains on the ceiling from the food fight he started."

"Scott I'm sure that Mr. Proudstar will do just fine," Xavier said. "He will be an excellent addition to the teaching staff at the Xavier Institute."

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"This is a very important lesson kids: don't ever mix beer with scotch!" John said. "Remember the rhyme: Liquor before beer never fear. Beer before liquor, throw up quicker. Remember that. Boilermakers are the only exception because they are beer and scotch but they're mixed together."

"But what does this have to do with English class?" Bobby asked.

"Hell-oo! Nearly all great writers are alcoholics!" John told him. "That's why they write all this crazy stuff! Don't they teach you anything important in this school?"

"Well we do learn how to control our powers to help people," Paige said.

"Yeah well besides that," John said. "I'm talking academically. Is it time for class to be over yet? Ten more minutes? Ah, class dismissed. So you get out a little early? What's the harm?"

The kids whooped as they left the room. "You know this teaching thing isn't gonna be as hard as I thought," John thought. "Now where the hell do they keep the scotch?"