Disclaimer: I do not own the cartoons used within or Animal House.
Any Robin fans in the house? (How about Neidermeyer fans? ... Right, I thought not.) Well, like it or not, he's in your face this chapter and next chapter.
This chapter was especially fun for me to do, mostly because I love the "PLEDGE PIN!!" quote.
Jiraiya was one of the English teachers at Miyazaki College. He abandoned the art of the shinobi for this job, not necessarily because he was getting old for being a ninja or because the job was dangerous for anybody (let alone a man in his fifties), but because he decided to devote more time to writing his romance novels (that's what he called them, but don't kid yourself, they're pornography). He thought this job would help get his creative juices flowing, but it turned out to be a joke. Three quarters of the kids he taught didn't do what he assigned, and even then, grading papers took up way too much of his time. At least he could sneak some peeks at the college girls here.
He leaned back on his desk, letting his way-too-long-for-anybody white hair rest on it. Another day, another dollar, another hour spent with ungrateful drunkards in their twenties. "Now… what can we say about Professor Rotwood's The Dragon Boy, I Swear It?" Thinking of something he could possibly use from this worthless book to educate the students on something other than bad writing, Jiraiya paused a lot. "It's a… a drawn out account of… uh… a part of his life in New York City. This guy was known to be a little off, so a lot of you probably have some difficulty understanding… exactly what Rotwood was trying to say." He sighed and stood up straight. Even though the weird wooden sandals he had on elevated him at least three inches, without them he was still quite tall. "Certainly we know that he, uh… trying to make some weird theory of his come to light, eh? Well, the most intriguing character in the book was the, uh, passerby on the street who didn't even have a speaking role." The last part he more murmured to himself. "Okay. Don't write this down, but I find Rotwood probably as boring as you find Rotwood. The rest of the world did, too. He's extremely long-winded, he practically types his German accent, and he's totally gone off the deep end." The bell rang, interrupting Jiraiya's tangent. He continued to shout after his students as they gathered up their books, laptops, food, and the brains they made sure to take out of their heads before they even sat down. "But that doesn't relieve you from your responsibility for this material! I'm still waiting for reports from some of you!" Half the young adults were gone. "HEY! I'M NOT JOKING! THIS IS MY JOB!"
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Trixie, dressed in a cheerleading outfit with Veronica, was grilling Jean Grey. They were on the bleachers after a football game. The skies were a milky gray-white, the autumn air brisk.
"Come ON, Jean! Are you and Scott doing it?" Trixie sounded as if she had asked Jean this a few times before and absolutely needed an answer or her head would explode.
Jean hesitated before answering. She looked annoyed. "Scott doesn't believe in premarital intercourse."
"Too bad. He's at least a nine."
They didn't even notice Peter Griffin sitting under the bleachers, at the perfect position to look up their short skirts. Peter's face was frozen in shock. Perhaps it was in erotic glee in an odd-looking form, or maybe because of the chilly air, or maybe it was some sort of weird side effect of alcohol poisoning, or maybe it was because Veronica was one of the girls.
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Beast Boy, one in a four-by-four line of boys in green suited military garbs, shouted out a rhythm for them to walk by. "ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR!" The members of the college's soldiers-in-training were there for no other reason than to be scolded by Robin, their general. That was a lie; there must've been some other reason, but it seemed to the trainees like that was the main purpose. So there they stood, in the chilly, gray weather. There they stood, on the muddy, dull grass, located near the center of Miyazaki College.
"Company, HALT!" Robin shouted. He was dressed in military attire as well, shiny and colorful badges decorating his, but the motorcycle he was on threw the whole getup off. "Hold my mount," Robin ordered Beast Boy as he stepped off the vehicle. It obviously made little sense that he told him to hold the mount of a motorcycle.
Robin's next action was to pick a victim in this group of boys. Poorly trained boys. Immature boys. Lazy boys. A few of them Chihiro boys. They needed him. They needed his guidance. They may make voodoo dolls of him every night now, but they'd be thanking Robin later. Robin had picked his victim – Tucker Foley.
Robin stepped right next to Tucker, who kept his eyes straight ahead. "You nerdy, disgusting slob. You're a damn disgrace!"
Meanwhile, Zuko and Pietro had made their way up to the tip-top of a steep, very tall hill. With them were two golf bags, with neat varieties of shiny golf clubs, and a set of white, new, soon to be painful little golf balls (Pietro had stolen the balls and clubs). And it was no coincidence that this hill, located near the center of Miyazaki College, perfectly overlooked Robin and his subjects.
Pietro let out a nervous giggle, looking at Robin. "Vicious mother, isn't he?"
Zuko gave the scene a stern look. "He can't do that to our pledges. Only we can do that to our pledges."
Robin, clutching his metal staff (Robin was skilled with various weapons that he hardly ever ended up using), ordered Tucker around. "Dress that belt buckle!" Robin whacked him in the midsection. Tucker fiddled with belt buckle after standing up straight again. "Redo those buttons!" He whacked Tucker in the chest. Tucker cringed and fiddled with the buttons, looking terrified. "Straighten that cap!" Whacking him in the head, Robin knocked Tucker's green cap right off his head. "And goddamn it, tuck in those PANTIES!" He was referring to Tucker's red heart boxers (as he whacked Tucker's behind), which were visible when he bent over to pick up the cap.
Robin stepped in front of him. "Attention! EYES FRONT!" Tucker stood rigid. "What's that on your chest, victim?"
"…A pledge pin, sir-"
"A PLEDGE PIN? ON YOUR UNIFORM?!" Spittle flew from Robin's mouth on the 'p' on 'pledge' and 'pin' and his tone grew harshly loud and volatile.
Back on the hill, Zuko hit a golf ball. It landed somewhere in a river. "Hooked it. Damn."
Robin sneered. "What fraternity would pledge…" His masked eyes scanned Tucker in disgust. "…a man like you?"
Tucker swallowed. "It's a Chihiro pin, sir."
Zuko did another swing. "Slice."
The golf ball went crashing through the window of Dean Father. The chair he was sitting on slowly started to smoke.
"Report to the stable tonight and every night at TWENTY-HUNDRED HOURS. And without that PLEDGE PIN!" More spittle. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"
Tucker, desperate to be left alone, bobbed his head up and down.
Pietro took the club from Zuko. "Your left arm is straight. But you're not keeping your head down."
"YOU'RE ALL WORTHLESS AND WEAK! NOW DROP AND GIVE ME FIFTY!" Robin ordered. When they were finished, he didn't give them a break. "GET BACK IN RANKS." After that last shout, Robin got on his motorcycle.
When Zuko tried to position himself again, Pietro yanked the club. "No. Just no. You suck at this. Watch me." He positioned himself and hit the ball.
As Robin opened his mouth again to be even more annoying, the golf ball hit one of the handlebars on his motorcycle. The bike took off, surprising Robin. A lot, apparently, since he ended up getting dragged on the ground by the other handlebar, shouting as he got dragged at forty miles an hour on the muddy field. Zuko and Pietro watched the group of soldier wannabes run after him with fast, desperate, freshman feet.
Zuko narrowed his eyes (or rather, his good eye). "I have to work on my game."
"Damn straight."
"You're not going to say anything supportive?"
Pietro snorted. "Like what?"
"Like how I shouldn't think of it as work and the whole point is to enjoy myself?"
"Pfft. Yeah. And my name is Otter."