Chapter Four – A Hard Lesson in Tolerance
Man, two days is NOT long enough for a weekend. The Sex Olympics took up entirely too much time when I could have been doing other...wait a minute. Too much time? TOO MUCH TIME!? Kenny, goddammit, don't be a pansy-ass. You can handle it.
"Sorry I'm late," I announce as I stumble into the classroom, breathing heavily. The bell rings just as I close the door, making my apology unnecessary. Five years have gone by and Kenny McCormick has YET to be late to school. Somebody give me a fucking congratulatory medal.
"Nice one," King nods at me in approval. "Another second and we would have had to write you an office referral for tardiness." I chuckle at this, shaking my head as I throw my crap down on my desk, making a rather impressive thump. Stan smiles sweetly at King, touching his shoulder as King beams back at him.
In my head, I perform a double fist pump. Chalk another one up for the Kenmeister.
I look around the room for something to start my completely unprepared lesson with, and realize I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. I pat down my chest and torso, looking for I guess chalk or a pen or something, and dig through my pockets. This way the kids see that I'm actually looking for something...
It's not like I just came in here without a lesson to teach in the same clothes I wore yesterday or anything. Oh Jesus, I'm still wearing the same clothes I wore yesterday.
"What's the matter McCormick, forgot that you actually had to plan out something for the day?" Majesty spits out with contempt. "This is pathetic. You're not even prepared, and you look like shit. What'd you do, sleep in the same clothes all weekend?"
Majesty adds an extra throb to my already pounding head. "Could you just - shut up - for one second?" I say in his direction, holding up my index finger while ruffling through my drawers, pockets, anything for some sort of hangover relief.
"Mr. M, you told me you were going to give us silent reading time for the first half of class today, remember?" King says with a wink as soon as I look over to him. Stan turns his head to acknowledge his friend and smiles the brightest smile I have ever seen ANYONE smile.
Somebody made up...
"Oh, right!" I say, playing off of King's words as I frantically look around the room for any sort of reading material. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a cluster of books. I practically sprint over to them, finding a random assortment of books on sexual reproduction. I flip through one or two, trying not to snicker at the drawings and the anal retentive-ness of the labels. I pick up an armful of them, throwing them haphazardly on each student's desk. "Here's some books. Go wild."
"Uh...Mr. M," I hear an unsure voice behind me as I turn to walk back to my desk.
I whirl around to face Stan. "Yes?"
"You told us we could bring our own books too, didn't you?"
Christ, how do these kids KNOW I'm going to fuck up? I glance around the room and see a whole bunch of my students pulling out their own books. Only Majesty and Tubby look lost.
"O...kay then," I proceed. "Whoever has their own books, awesome. Read those. Who didn't bring a book?" I see one or two students raise their hands, but Majesty looks huffy and keeps his arms crossed, knowing that I'm going to take every opportunity to get that little shit back.
"Majesty!" I say loudly, and my head screams at me for talking so loudly. "You got a book?"
Majesty shoots arrows in his glance. "No," he responds shortly.
"Looks like you get to research some sex," I tell him, tossing a book. Tubby shies away too, and I hit him square in the chest with HIS book. His oversized belly kind of swallows it up before it falls down to his extra-cushioned lap.
"Alright kiddies, lets get crackin," I tell them as I trek up to my desk. I hear quiet giggles and little whispers all over the place, but I don't care. This will buy me some time to figure out what the hell we're gonna do when we're done.
My head still pounding, I rifle through my desk shit, finally finding some painkillers lodged between a pair of scissors and a picture of Porschea in just her bra and panties. Heh. I stare at the picture for a moment longer before popping two pills, swallowing them dry. I tap my fingers on my desk, looking around the classroom as I wait for the pills to kick in.
"What are you doing?" I hear a little voice ask curiously. I glance up without moving my head position. In other words, my eyes roll to the top of my skull. Majesty has a book set up on its end and he's hiding behind it, snickering.
I clear my throat and roll my eyes even further upwards. That little shit WILL be intimidated by me because I'm fucking intimidating, dammit!
Instead of shaping up, Majesty snickers even louder, gesturing towards some part of the page. I cough loudly, startling everyone in the class, including Majesty who finally pays me some attention. I give him the same glance. "Problem understanding what a PENIS looks like?" I say monotonously, not breaking my eye contact. Majesty shifts uncomfortably in his seat before losing all traces of his smile and busily gets back to work.
"I thought not," I continue, taking my focus off of the boy. A few minutes later, I hear snickering again. I rifle through my desk, and upon finding a small rubber eraser, chuck it across the room at Majesty. It bounces nicely off of his head.
"OW what the hell'd you do THAT for McCormick?" he cries, rubbing the 'injured' spot on his right side forehead.
"Oh quit your whining, princess, it's a RUBBER ERASER," I combat, deciding it best to make my rounds through the room. I stop a few feet behind Stan and King and smile inwardly.
Those boys have got to be the cutest non-lovers to hit the face of this earth. Stan is whispering something to King, who is trying hard to concentrate on his read. But I know what he's thinking about...
"Psht, Stan stop it," King half giggles, half hisses at his friend.
"Make me," Stan hisses excitedly back, poking him in the side. King jumps a little before snorting and poking him back. I watch amusedly as the poke-fest turns into a little bit of a slap-fest, both boys snickering rather loudly.
"Uhhh, Mr. McCormick?" I hear Tubby call me from the other side of the room. "Uh, the noise levels in here, are having an adverse effect on my learning..." he whines.
"Then wear some ear plugs, I think its fine," I retort nastily. That kid reminds of someone else I've grown to hate.
"McCormick if YOU want to get off to a couple of homos then that's your business, but don't subject us to it," Majesty chimes in, just as my eye contact meets his in an all-out death stare.
Under my breath I mutter something loud and clear. "Try and say another word, Melvin."
"What? Another word?" Melvin replies nastily. "What, like fag? Because I've had just about enough of this faggy class!"
I open my mouth to say something equally nasty back, but am cut off when a quieter voice comes from the back of the class.
"D-don't use that word, Melvin." I turn around and I have to push my jaw back up from the floor when I see Trevor, looking scared but defiant.
"What?" Melvin demands incredulously.
"My d-dad told me that those who are afraid of those are who are different than them are usually not so different after all," the little blonde boy stutters.
Majesty looks around the room and sinks in his desk. "I'm no queer."
"T-then why's it bother you so much?"
Majesty wrinkles his nose. "Because I don't like having to look at gay-moes groping each other in class!"
"I d-don't think Mr. McCormick would let that happen in our class. And m-maybe you shouldn't be looking if you d-don't like it." Trevor looks like he's about to pee himself.
Majesty snorts. "Mr. McCormick not only condones it, he does it himself. Remember with that other lady teacher, huh?" He turns his head to glare at me.
"The one you whose ASS you WERE DROOLING OVER?" I scream, about to lose my cool.
"...uh..." Majesty begins, obviously de-aired.
"UUUUH...try she's my WIFE you little shit." I storm over to his desk and lean over, bracing the desk with my two sturdy arms. "You listen here, you little prick. I'm teaching tolerance in this class and if you've got a problem with it I want you out of here before I take another breath."
Majesty reels back, obviously taken aback by my hostility. Damn straight, he better be scared. He better be about to fucking shit his pants.
"WELL?" I demand. "You got a problem or not?"
Majesty face is bright red, and he chokes on his words a little. "N-n-no, sir," he says, voice barely above a whisper.
"Cause this is your last chance, Melvin. Get out of my sight or shut the hell up," I press on.
Majesty opens his mouth to speak, but his friend Tubby speaks for him. "Man, shut the hell up!" he squeaks at his friend with a nudge. Majesty snaps his mouth shut and stares horrifyingly at my flaring nostrils and foaming mouth that is but two inches away from his tiny face.
I snort in Majesty's face, and he recoils. "Well, at least your friend has some common sense. I'd suggest you take his advice."
Majesty says nothing, but nods vigorously at me, his eyes wide open.
"Melvin. This. Is. Your. Last. Fucking. Chance," I state, breaking up the words for emphasis. "Do. Not. Fuck. With. Me. Again."
Melvin pushes his chair back a little, still nodding vigorously without cease. He looks like a bobble head.
I twitch and blink, waiting for an answer. "Well? What's the matter, teacher got your fucking balls? Try and test me, Melvin. See what happens."
I lean in closer so and whisper into his ear so no one else can hear. "Cause if you mention one more word about those boys I will cut them off and make them into a trophy on my mantle."
I audibly hear Majesty gulp, and it's nearly laughable. Nearly. "Do we have an understanding then?" I ask Majesty more loudly, enough for the class to hear.
"Y-y-yessir," he managed to squeak out. The boy looks like he's about to faint.
"So everyone, you have a few more minutes of reading left, I suggest you ALL use it to your advantage," I tell the class, and they all immediately get back to work
Stan looks a little taken aback by my anger, but I grin as I notice King give Trevor an approving nod.
I make my way over to the brave little boy and put my hand on his shoulder. "Let's have a word outside," I tell him soothingly to let him know he's not in trouble.
"Aw, gee, Mr. McCormick, I'd really like to read this book here," he responds.
I nod my head. "This will only take a minute." I gesture for him to follow me out to the hall.
I exit the room, Trevor following close behind. "I-I'm not in trouble am I?" He asks, voice laced with slight worry.
I shake my head as I bend over to talk to him at his level. "Anything but," I say, smiling slightly at the boy, who immediately lets out a sigh of relief.
"Oh good. B-because if my mom and dad knew I was speaking out of turn in c-class... well y-ya won't tell them, will you?"
"Trevor..." I begin, and suddenly realize that isn't his real name. He's just grown accustomed to me calling him that. I restart.
"Simon, that was pretty cool what you did in there. You've got some great qualities that I'm sure your classmates noticed. I'd be damned if you didn't just make yourself a new friend." I smile warmly.
His eyes light up too. "A f-friend? OH BOY!"
I smile sadly at the boy's eagerness for companionship. "More than one, hopefully," I tell him. "You're a cool kid Simon, you just gotta let others see that. What you did in there, voicing your own opinions against Melvin, that was brave. I'm proud of ya."
Simon grins, staring at the ground. "Uh, well, th-thanks I guess."
"Just keep doing what you're doing. You've got a good head on your shoulders, and it will pay off in the end. Just keep smiling." I smile to myself and decide to go for it. "Simon says keep smiling," I say, feeling myself deteriorate into lameness.
He smiles. "You can call me Trevor, Mr. McCormick. I don't mind." He turns his head toward the classroom again. "Can I go finish my book now?"
"Heh, yeah go read your book," I say, and no sooner are the words out of my mouth then is Simon dashing back into the classroom. I snicker - if it was any other boy I'd think he was looking at a porno. I raise my arms up behind my head, giving them a stretch before reentering the classroom. I'll give Trevor five more minutes with his book before lessons start. Speaking of which, I need a game plan
I open the door and almost immediately flooded with students up and out of their seats to question me.
"Are you going to kick him out?" "Is he going to get kicked out of school?" "Are you really mad?" "What did you just tell Simon?" "Are we in trouble?" "Do we HAVE to read?"
Ugh. I throw my hands up and close my eyes. "Sit. Down," I state calmly at every single bratty kid.
"Mr. M, can we-"
"I SAID SIT DOWN!" I scream. The frightened children scamper away in terror. Haha, still got it.
The throbs in my head beginning to subside, I sit at my desk and rifle through my possessions for anything that may give me a clue as to what to teach with what little I had here. I glance over towards the huge stack of paper towels. There's too little chalk for much writing, it's probably best to leave that for a more important time. I open my desk. Scissors...glue stick... mirror…
I retrieve the mirror, opening it and look at my reflection. Christ, I really do look like hell.
Mirror...glue stick...scissors...we could make some kind of warped craft project. No, that's fucking ridiculous. Come on, Kenny, think!
Too bad my best thinking time is done right after sex. No WONDER I have such brilliant lesson plans. I nod to myself in approval, but quickly snap out of it. That won't help me now. Unless...
Sex. Sex ed. This IS sex ed. Style. Lesson plan...
I scratch my head and feel an idea coming on, but try with all my might for it to come in and not fade away.
Style. Stan, Kyle. Stan, King. I already did pair ups.
I frown tapping a pen against my head in concentration. I chew on my lower lip. If only Stan and Kyle were here... haha, now what a class that would be.
But that won't help me right now. I have three minutes to come up with the most kickass plan ever.
What... what if, there were... drawings? Of... tolerance? Naw, that's gay. There was already a death camp for that.
I've GOT it!
"Class, put down your books, not-so-silent reading time is over." I assume my stance at the front of the classroom. "Majesty actually did me a favor here, leading up to our next lesson. A lesson on tolerance."
I hear groans all around.
"Not just your everyday 'be tolerant' speech, kids." I scan the classroom. "Braids, what's the single most important quality you look for in a friend?"
Braids furrows her brows, trying to come up with the best response. "Uh, being nice, I guess?" Gee, what a completely predictable response.
"Be more specific than that," I tell her.
Braids looks at me in mild confusion. "Uh, I guess being... easy to get along with and stuff?"
"Okay, easy to get along with," I repeat. "Who's got other ideas? What about you, Tubby?" I ask genuinely.
"Gotta be a good cook and service me," he boasts proudly.
I roll my eyes. "Right, and how many friends do you have?" The fatty's shoulders fall.
"Okay, everyone get out a sheet of paper. I want you to put your name at the top and then number 1 to 3 down the side. Think long and hard, kiddies, and write the three most important things you look for in a friend," I instruct them.
The kids dutifully get to work. I notice Stan and King both sticking their tongues out the side of their mouths in concentration. Jesus Christ, they're even both sticking it in the same direction. I withhold a smile at that as the students start coming up to the front of the room and giving me their papers.
As time goes by, I keep close watch on the clock. We only have seven minutes left in class. "Alright time's up. Put your pencils down." Heh heh, I always wanted to say that. This is sex-ed. Do you think I EVER get to have serious tests in here?
"Who wants to go first?" I ask a completely unwilling group of pre-teens who are shrinking into their chairs like I just asked them to recite the star spangled banner while dancing the Macarena.
I notice Majesty above all looks particularly reluctant to speak to the class. "All right Majesty, get your homophobic ass up here and tell your class your three personality traits you wrote down." Majesty looks too damn scared to disobey me again, so he shuffles to the front of the class.
"M-my three..." he starts, glancing nervously at me before looking back down at his paper."I-I wrote, one is sense of humor, two is loyalty, and three is intelligence." His eyes comb the classroom for any remarks or matches.
I watch King as his flirting with Stan subsides and he stares, horrified, at the paper placed in front of him.
"Do we have anybody who has one of these qualities?" I ask, and practically half the class raises their hand.
"What about two of them?" Four people raise their hands, and one of them is the
reluctant King.
I sigh. "Ooookay, who has all three of these qualities listed on their paper?"
The other three hands descend, leaving King's alone in the air. King looks less than happy at this outcome, noticeably pouting, while Stan gives King a look that contains a mixture of amusement and bafflement.
I press my lips together, trying not to laugh as Majesty and King share looks of equal horror. "Okay," I continue, "Majesty, you go sit in Stan's spot. Stan, you come to the front of the room and read yours out."
I hear an audible groan from both accused parties as Melvin shuffles his way to the side of the classroom. King sits up straight and scoots over on his chair as far as possible without falling off of it. Majesty takes a loud seat with a huff, and folds his arms.
Stan, of course, jollily SKIPS to the front of the classroom. "I want my best friend to accept me for who I am, love me anyway, and be able to build a fort out of couch cushions." He grins and looks over at King, who I'm pretty damn sure just pissed his pants. Guess little Stan has some intelligence in him after all.
"Heh, so who has one of those?" I notice roughly half the class stick their hands up. "Two?" Ha, and we've got two hands left. "One?" And all the hands go down. Aw, shit.
I notice emo as one of the people who put up their hands for 'two'. "Emo, what do you have?"
Emo responds in her monotonous voice. "I have I want to be accepted for who I am for once in my life, I want to be loved by someone, and I want to be able to write poems about death and hate with them late at night in my closet using only the light of a candle."
"Uh...kay..." I say, not very reassuringly. Stan's bright smile doesn't fade, however, as I usher him to have a seat by emo girl.
This whole experiment goes on until I have pretty much everyone paired up except for a few students. I smile as I look over at Trevor with his partner, who is with some random brunette boy I must admit I had no clue even existed in my classroom. I see the time is drawing to a close, and decide to provide closure to his whole made-up lesson.
"So," I start, "I see that a lot of you seemed surprised at who you got paired up with. Some of you," I say, glancing towards King and Majesty, "probably even dislike each other. Now answer me this - if you have the same wanted traits in a friend, why did you never seek friendship with this person?" King's hand immediately shoots up.
"Just because they want that in a friend doesn't mean they're like that themselves," King states, looking at Melvin with intense dislike.
I bring a thoughtful hand to my chin and strike a thinking pose. "True...but maybe they are just caught up in the clichés of school and too preoccupied with being 'cool' they wouldn't let that part of themselves show, cause it's not considered cool." I am speaking mostly AT Melvin by this time.
"Take a look at your pairs. How many of you thought you'd have so much in common with the person right next to you? Guess Trevor's dad is right. We AREN'T so different after all." I finish my last sentence just in time for the bell to ring. I hold my arm up and signal that it's okay for them to leave.
Stan darts away from Emo, who for some reason looks disappointed, to go meet up with King who practically jumped out of his seat to get away from Majesty.
"That was fun, huh?" Stan nudges King with his shoulder while students shove past them to leave.
"Yeah. Fun," Was King's less than happy response at not being paired up with his super best gay crush friend.
Stan pouted, and I'm not joking, takes King's hand. "Aw, don't worry Lu. We don't gotta get paired up for everything. You're still my bestest friend, no matter what."
My eyes IMMEDIATELY monitor Majesty and his reaction, but surprisingly, he acknowledges their affection, and then he just goes back to this original seat in the classroom and waits silently for the fatass to squeeze out of his. I might've just been impressed if I didn't have to tear that kid a new asshole everyday to keep him quiet in my classroom.
Oh well, all's well that ends well, eh?
I smile to myself as I watch Stan and King exit the room, still holding hands and looking like they're about to start skipping at that. They disappear around the corner of the door, and I think that that's the last I'll see of them for the day. I start gathering my few things together, but stop halfway when I hear a loud voice bellow through the hallway.
"HEY FAGGOTS! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? GAY PRIDE WEEK IS OVER, SO GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY SIGHT YOU LITTLE HOMO SHITHEADS!"
I drop every single thing I just organized and make a mad dash out the door, almost throwing students to the side to get to the source of the bashing. I see the perpetrator in front of me--a wiry eighth grader that I had last year, his name is Wally Cox--standing directly in front of my happy little couple.
I trek across the crowded hallway to kick that kid's ass when I stop mid step. As if in slow motion, I see once-innocent little Stan leap across the dead hall space at Wally and smash his fists into his belly, his chest, his neck, and worst of all, his face.
"AAAAAUUUUGH!!" Stan cries out as the taller boy is knocked to the ground. Stan pounces on him, ripping his glasses off of his face for some reason. "AAAH!" he cries out again, and smacks the kid in the face several times, then finally stands up and gives him a swift kick to the crotch.
As I hear students start to chant 'fight! fight!' I dart over to Stan and succeed at pulling him away from Wally, who is moaning on the ground and holding his front.
I push Stan back into King, who is in a state of shock. Stan is breathing fire and his eyes are glaring at the pathetic heap on the floor. He runs back over to Wally, but I swiftly restrain him with my forearm.
"Say it to my face again, FUCKER!" He seethes with anger, and something tells me that little blow up I had in the classroom has influenced his ballsy move. Oops.
Wally looks crippled and unable to get off the ground. I turn to Stan.
"Whoa, boy, calm down there," I tell him with my hand on his tense shoulder.
Stan is breathing quickly, still glaring daggers. "Stan, deep breaths," I inform him, trying to get him to become more passive.
King touches his shoulder, and Stan closes his eyes takes a few deep breaths as I instructed. When he opens them, he looks to King, who still looks completely shocked. He then looks at me, down at Wally, then back up at me. The expression on his face turns from anger to passiveness to horror. His lower lip trembles slightly.
Ah, shit.
The transformation is complete as poor little Stan dissolves into a bought of tears and his body support gives way. He collapses backwards...right into King's open arms.
Lucas looks up at me for guidance, but I really have none. Wally is whimpering on the ground, but I spy him trying to gain enough energy to crawl away. I can't let him get away with this, and I think it'd be best for King to calm his best friend down. I give him a reassuring look and turn to the crowd, telling them all, in more polite words, to fuck off.
Stan turns around in King's arms, clutching the other boy shirt in his fists while sobbing into his neck. King looks like he really has no clue what to do.
"Shhh, it's okay," King tries to whisper to Stan, stroking his hair a little.
"N-n-no it's not, Lu!" Stan sobs into King. King looks to me again, and I gesture towards the empty classroom. King takes the hint and leads Stan into it for some privacy, while I tend to the boy still on the ground.
I lean down and check for a pulse. Why? I don't know, the stupid asshole is clearly moving. He looks at me with confusion and begins to open his mouth, but I've HAD IT with homophobic fuckers for the day and I deliver one final blow to his face as he falls back on the floor. Sure, in any other school, I'd be fired for that for sure, but who are we kidding?
I turn my attention to the two boys sitting very visibly in my classroom. My heart turns to mush as I see King's face only inches away from Stan's as he wipes his friends' tears with his thumbs. Jesus, I've gone soft for those two.
Ah shit, and now Wally's taken the opportunity to start crying too. I roll my eyes upwards and roughly hoist the boy to his feet.
"Come on now, I'll take you to the nurses' office," I tell him, taking his hand and practically dragging him behind me while the boy attempts to walk with his legs bowed together, one hand still on his front. I decide I can trust King and Stan enough to leave them alone in my classroom for a few minutes.
I knock on the door to our hot nurse...of course not as hot as my tasty little wife. God, the boys in this school are lucky sons-of-bitches. I never had a hot teacher. "Miss Chance?" I ask curiously, the intolerant asshole in tow. "You in here?"
She appears around the corner in her cute little nurse's apron/dress thing. Her and Porschea should become better friends so my fantasy can come true.
"Yes?" She asks me, before glancing down at the wincing boy beside me. "Oh my goodness, what happened here?"
"Kid got in a fight," I reply shortly. "Decided to make a few homophobic comments, and someone retaliated."
"Who?" She asked as she gently took Wally's arm, who seems to have forgotten about his pain for a moment to instead stare at the nurses' chest. "Are they all right?"
I dismiss her question with a wave of my hand. "Don't worry; I'm taking care of it."
She smiles warmly at me with a hint of flirt, making me wonder why her and Porschea HAVEN'T become better friends. We could be one happy family.
"Thank you, Mr. McCormick, I'll handle Wally," she tells me, leading me to believe that Mr. Cox is a frequent visitor. "You do what you need to do," she says, flashing her pearly whites at me.
I grin. "Will do. See ya." And like the Flash, I'm out the door in less than a second. Because I roll like that.
In half a minute, I'm back at my classroom. Stan and King are still inside, but Stan is still clutching King's shirt, although his crying has died down to whimpers. King looks a little worried at his friend's behavior.
"Mr. McCormick!" He says almost desperately, his eyes pleading with me for assistance. That's the first time he's ever used my full last name. I look back, equally as desperate to the still in-shock boy.
"Tell Stan it's going to be okay," he coaches me as I sit down unsurely.
"It's...it's going to be okay, Stan," I mimic. Taking a deep breath, I situate myself on the uncomfortable midget chair. "Wally's gonna be okay, you didn't bruise him up that bad."
Stan hides his face in King's shirt.
I force a smile. "Hell of a temper you got there, little boy."
Stan snickers a little into King's shirt, but it fades almost as promptly as it started. "I-I've never b-buh-been in a f-f-ight before," he states, hiccupping. "L-Lu-Lucas is usually th-the one who g-gets in fights with puh-people." He starts snickering a little hysterically into King's shirt again, then hiccups and is back to crying again.
"I don't get in fights THAT often Stan," King says, making a face.
"Yeah you do d-dude. Bu-but don't worry, I do-don't mind." Funny, hysterical Stan is trying to comfort King.
I laugh to myself. "You two are just together for everything, aren't you," I muse out loud.
At this statement, King glares at me. Stan only lifts his head and looks at King. "Well, yeah, we are," he says matter-of-factly. King smiles back at his friend and pushes Stan's face down to his shoulder again so Stan can't see him blush.
"Mr. M, what the hell is that kid's problem?"
"He's got a stick up his ass?" I venture. Nah, he'd like that too much. "Don't pay attention to Wally, boys. He's harmless, even if he DOES talk a lot of shit."
"Well his talk sure does hurt a lot," Stan added, sinking back into King's shoulder groove.
I grin at this. "Well maybe so dude, but I don't think he'll be messing with you anytime soon. Probably go screaming in the opposite direction."
King starts to snicker at this, joined shortly in by Stan. They laugh together, and then King finally succeeds in pulling Stan off of him, wiping his tears off his face once more.
I organize my next thoughts to say, but stop when I see the interaction between my two prize pupils. It's not so much what they're saying, cause they're not saying anything at all. Its how they're looking at each other. The little half smiles, almost goofy, that they're exchanging.
Finally, King draws in a sharp breath. "I didn't know you had it in you, Stan," he says with a smile.
Stan smiles back. "No one's allowed to mess with my Lu," he states, wiggling his eyebrows.
King smirks. "I can take care of myself, ya know."
"I know. But it doesn't mean I'm not allowed to take care of you every once in a while."
Oh God, I think I've died and gone to STyle heaven.
At this, King grins. "I think I can handle that," he says, finally standing up. His eyes never leave Stan's as they walk out of the room. "Thanks again, Mr. M," he calls backwards.
Christ, when are they gonna make out already? I'm getting antsy.
Speaking of making out, it's WAY past time for me to meet Porschea and she is surprisingly nowhere to be found. Perhaps she got tied up?
Heh, I think about my wife being tied up.
I dart over to my wife's classroom, where, to my dismay, I find another student ogling her chest, squeezed between her arms as she talks to him.
"Hey baby!" She greets me as I come in, and I notice the student frown in disappointment. "Mark here was just asking for extra help!"
I blink twice and look down at the blushing student. "And did you find what you were looking for?" I ask impatiently.
He nods. "Y-yes sir." He pulls away reluctantly. Christ, Porschea is naive.
"Well run along then, scamp. The grown ups gotta play." I smacked his back as he exited the room. "AND MAKE SURE YOU CLOSE THE DOOR!" I yell after him.
He closes the door, and I quickly grab my coat, using it to cover the small window in the door. I then lock it effectively. I turn on my heel and give Porschea the most seductive look I can muster. She giggles.
"Hey sexy lady, wanna have some fun?" I purr at her.
Her eyes light up. "SURE! I've got this new game we play at the end of the period that the students think is fun!"
I smack my forehead, which has become a common response to her dumb answers. "Not THAT kind of fun."
She frowns. "Oh."
I waltz over to her, picking up the roll of yarn on the work table along the way. Damned if I know how it's used in the classroom. But I know how I'm gonna use it.
Porschea walks up behind me and reaches around to my front, grabbing my crotch. GodDAMN!
"What're you doing with that yarn Kenny?" She asks, resting her head on my shoulder.
I whirl around, smirking evilly at her. "You've been a bad girl. A very bad girl."
"But I've done everything you asked me to, sir," she replies, assuming my favorite role--the submissive slave that seduces me.
"I'll give you some time to think about what you did," I snap as I pull the yarn out and cut it with my teeth. She lets out a high-pitched giggle as I pretend-rip open her blouse and begin to tie her up.
Yet another point for the Kenmeister.