Math

"This is an outrage!" Danny shouted, waving his math test in the air. "An F! I demand to know why I got such an unrighteous grade!"

Mr. Lancer sighed. "Because, Daniel. 12x12 does NOT equal 24. You added when you should have multiplied, and vice versa."

Danny pointed to a snickering Sam and Tucker. "They got a C! They passed! They didn't even STUDY! I know, I was with them all weekend! What, do you want me here next year?"

Lancer groaned. "That is the last thing I want, Mr. Fenton."

Danny scowled. "Then why the F? It's not like I plan to become a math teacher or architect or anything like that. Math is useless for me!"

"You're just jealous because I got a D+!" Dash said boastfully.

Lancer smiled. "All right, Mr. Fenton. If you can convince me that math is in fact useless for students in the everyday world who won't become mathematicians, then I'll raise your grade."

Danny thought for a moment. "If I do, will you lower Sam and Tucker's grade?"

Lancer smirked at the howls of protest from the two teens. "No, but I will make them do an essay on the topic of my choice. But if you don't convince me however, you will do the essay AND your grade will stay the same."

"Ok, I'll do it!" Danny dramatically slammed his fist on his desk.

"Ms. Manson and Mr. Foley, see if you can stump him."

Sam looked at Danny. "You need math to divide up a pizza."

'Objection! We wrestle for the slices."

Dash grumbled. "Dork's right. Me and Kwan beat up each other for the pizza."

Lancer nodded. "Ok, Daniel. You're doing good so far."

Tucker frowned. "You need math to cook!"

Danny grinned. "True, but I don't cook! Hah!"

Tucker sighed. "Right. You can't even make toast."

"I HATE TOAST!" Danny shouted.

Lancer bit back a smile. "2 more chances, or Mr. Fenton gets the raise in grade."

Sam tapped her pencil on her desk in thought. "You need math...to tell time! That's an everyday thing!"

"Yes, but I'm always late, so obviously, I CAN'T tell time." Danny said gleefully.

Lancer chuckled at the distraught look on Sam's face. "I can vouch for that."

Tucker bit his lip, deep in thought. "You need math to...to, to make GHOST GEAR!" He said the last part loudly with a huge grin on his face, as if he won the lottery.

"I don't make ghost gear!" Danny countered half-heartedly.

"Liar!" Sam shouted. "Mr. Lancer, force upon him thy essay of DEATH."

Lancer grinned. "Daniel, Samantha's right." Sam winced slightly. "I know for a fact you help your parents create those infernal contraptions. I expect the essay on my desk Friday. The topic: How Math is Useful in Everyday Life."

Danny slumped into his desk, head in hands, and wailed, "NOOOO!"

Sam and Tucker exchanged high-fives in glee. The class laughed at Danny's scowling face.

"Daniel, because you were so determined to get a better grade, you can have a re-test tomorrow at lunch."

Danny sighed. "Thanks Mr. Lancer. But I wish I had asked for that sooner. Now I have to live with THAT."

Lancer followed Danny's gaze to Sam and Tucker, who were victory dancing around the room.

Lancer smiled. "I'm afraid I can't help you with that, Mr. Fenton."