Disclaimer: I'll hold my breath until I own Phil of the Future.
•BEEP •
Miss Pimpkins, this missive is to inform you that you have (sigh) at long last not only completed, but p-p-pas - not fay-fay-fay ... perhaps I can be better conveyed my message by an example? You, Stacy, were like the ravenous silkworm, feeding your belly, instead of your mind. How unfortuitous for you, as my Omicron Gambit served up a heaping helping of intellectual cuisine which your pedestrian palette simple could not digest, less appreciate. Oh, it must have been harrowing for you to miss cheerleading practice daily only to wallow in the pathetic bouquet of your inadequacy as a scholar. Personally, I could never have stomached such a sophisticated dish, only to be left alone, dreading the sight of my own reflected failure in the bottom of my finger bowl. Truly, to spend each afternoon stumped by my masterpiece of all exams should have crushed your spirit, just as it's grayed your follicles, as well as your complexion. But rejoice, you adolescent hag! Your after school time has not been wasted, nay! Through constant exposure to my pedagogical prowess, you have attained sufficient Messerschmittness, undoubtedly through osmosis by way of generous second helpings of my magnificent presence, to have succeeded in passing the gargantuan Omicron Gambit. Huzzah!
Stacy, I-I must confess that I'll miss our late afternoons together. I'd be willing to consider taking you on a my student assistant next semester. Your sole duty would be to accessorized the moment I whittle a dull student down to size with my razor-sharp wit by your pointing at the student and laughing out loud. No. Wait. I already do that. Har-har-har! Perhaps you could be the tissue monitor and mop the floor of excess bodily fluics? I'll expect your answer before Bell Call trumpets the morn tomorrow. Bring your own mop.
•BEEP •
A.N.: In actuality, I doubt Messerschmitt molecules permeated Pimpkins's pores. I'll bet Keely and Phil, after they themselves aced Messerschmitt's maniacal test, took the rapidly aging eleventh grade Stacy Pimpkins under their wing and tutored her to finally pass the dire exam after "The Giggle" episode.
BEEP approaches its 100th chapter:
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