So, it's been a year. I noticed, however, that I got one alert for this story and I was exploring my disk drive in the computer lab in English class and dug this up and decided to work on it. Go figure. ? Of course I can't promise anything, but I should have this thing finished soon. I'm not sure how accurate the lesson is at the end; I kinda just stuck it in.

After hitching a ride, Ferris Bueller arrived at his destination- Glenbrook North High School. He jogged into the building before the tardy bell rang, not keen on taking any chances when his graduation was at stake.

"Hi, Ferris!" Sloan stood in front of him.

"Hi, Sloan." Ferris sneezed, and then coughed.

"Are you okay? You sound sick."

"I am sick."

"Then why aren't you at home?"

"If I miss another day, I won't be able to graduate. Where's Cameron?"

"Mmmm, I haven't seen him."

"I wonder where he is. Probably at his house, in his bed, under the covers, sick to his stomach like he was last week."

The bell rang.

"See you later, Ferris."

"Yeah. Oh wait, do you want to do something tonight? Go anywhere?"

She looked at him strangely. "I thought you were sick."

"Oh… that I am." Ferris said, sulking.

She laughed. "You forgot?" She asked incredulously. "Ferris, are you really…"

"Ferris Bueller, if I do not see you in a classroom in 5 seconds, I will have you marked as absent." The principal's vacuum-cleaner voice boomed across the hallway.

Ferris winced at the sound of Principal Rooney's. That man was downright malicious. "See ya, Sloan."

She smiled back at him.

...

5 minutes later, Ferris listened to his Economics teacher drone on.

This is SOOOO boring. I wish I were skipping, He thought. But that's not really an option right now.

"Bueller? Bueller? Bueller?"

"Here. Here. Here." Ferris replied.

The Economics teacher adjusted his spectacles and raised his eyebrows at the class. "Really?"

"Here." Ferris repeated.

The Economics teacher sighed and wrote down 'present.' After letting the class settle down, he began to speak. "After the Civil War, there was a period that the South went through called… anyone? Anyone? Reconstruction. Because industry was in the north and in the south the main source of income was… Anyone? agriculture, the South was… Anyone? Anyone?"

"Screwed." Said a student.

The Economics teacher glared at him.

"Broke."

"That's better, Jared. And just why was there a flaw in the economy? Anyone? Anyone?"

"Because some dudes trampled all over their land for farming. They were screwed."

"Thank you, Jared. And who destroyed the South's land? Anyone?"

Ferris had been about to say "Your mom" but decided that he'd better not risk anything with his graduation on the magician's hamstring.

One student yawned and stretched her arms. Another rolled his eyes.

"Anyone? Anyone?"

"The North?" Somebody ventured a guess.

The Economics teacher glared at her. "No, Christie. Be more specific."

"Abraham Lincoln?" Somebody else said with a shrug.

"He didn't fight in the war, you idiot. Plus, he was shot in a theater booth." A student snapped before the teacher had a chance to say anything.

"He was shot in a box, not a booth, Ally. Lincoln was assassinated by John Wilkes Booth."

"John Wilkes Booth?" Ally looked up blankly at him. "I always thought that Lincoln was shot in a booth... so it must've been John Wilkes Box... wait a minute. Oh yeah."

Jared sighed. "You dipshit."

"Jared! That will be quite enough, thank you!"

How had he, Ferris, ever survived in this classroom for an hour and a half every day? Well, almost every day. The money in his pocket that he had gotten from his Cancer Cause jingled. Silently, he got a quarter out and began spinning it on his desk.

"…and Reconstruction had ended in the 1800s. Which lead to… anyone? Anyone? More farming. And today, the South continues to be more… Anyone? Agricultural, while the North is still more industrial. Thank you, class. You may go."

Ferris wasn't sure what was worse- 4 blocks of extremely long classes or 8 short classes with extremely mean teachers? He decided on the latter as with less classes he would not have to get up so many times. But now he was faced with Trig, and lunch was far away. What would he do?

"Bueller? You forgot this." The Economics Teacher held up the quarter at Ferris's desk.

Ferris sauntered up to him and took the coin with a 'Thanks.'

"Have a good one, Bueller." He replied, deadpan.