Surprise, surprise again! I'm loving the reviews, everyone, and you better dig in for this chapter because it's pretty HUGE…at least compared to the length of all the other ones. Frollo just demands that much attention, the creepy bastard. I hope he's as fun to read about as he is to write…good luck!}

Chapter Sixteen

This time, I was able to find my way to Frollo's dungeon without the help of any guides. I did not want to risk being late so I hurried back to Building 4 and descended down the stairs, ending up as one of the first students to take a seat. Naturally, after the previous day's bone-chilling encounter with Frollo, I had absolutely no interest in sitting anywhere near the front, so I sat in the back row, which I would usually do anyway. Belle, Tiana, and Wendy could take their chances up front without me today, thank you very much.

They entered the classroom not long after I did and, of course, Belle and Wendy zoomed straight over to me, clutching their books in their hands with dramatic purpose.

"Okay, so what happened?" Wendy immediately asked me in her little English accent.

My facial and body reactions were that of extreme exasperation. In the midst of my theatrics, I noticed Tiana walking past us.

"What, you don't want to hear too?" I asked her bitterly.

She never broke stride. "I already asked you and you wouldn't tell me. So I don't care anymore. Over it!"

Whatever. I looked back at Belle and Wendy, less than thrilled to be put on the spot.

"Okay, Ariel probably made it sound worse than it was."

"Getting pepper sprayed is pretty bad no matter how you spin it," Belle said.

"Oh my goodness, did you really get pepper sprayed?" Wendy asked, gaping.

"Shh!" I snapped at them, looking around at the few other students that were seated. None of them seemed to be other 'Disney' characters but that didn't mean they didn't like to gossip too. "Keep it down! I'm not trying to have this turn into the scandal of the day."

"It's probably already too late for that," Belle said. "I think Aurora has already put it out there that you're Persona Non Grata now."

As if to confirm this disappointing news, Jasmine, Gaston, and LeFou walked in at that moment and saw me. Gaston and LeFou immediately started laughing hysterically, and Jasmine's face was filled with disgust as she went to her seat in the middle of the classroom. As though I had personally suicide bombed Aurora's house with a tanker filled with pepper spray, instead of getting inadvertently shot by her skinny trigger-happy finger.

"What's up, buddy?" Gaston exclaimed, shaking some kind of canister in his hand. "Heard you had some trouble today with some pepper spray." He then proceeded to spray the contents of the canister in the general vicinity of my face. For a millisecond, I thought it actually was pepper spray again and nearly fell out of my chair trying to get away from it. But it was only some foul-smelling body spray deodorant which was, though offensive to the nose, ultimately harmless.

He and LeFou burst out laughing at my reaction, while Belle, Wendy, and I coughed and tried to wave the nasty stink out of our faces. Belle was not amused.

"What's your problem, Gaston?"

He just laughed. "Who, me? I don't have a problem. But you really know how to pick 'em, Belle. Your little amigo is a real smooth operator."

He didn't wait for a response, smart enough this time not to linger by us and potentially draw the ire of Frollo once again. He and LeFou went to take their seats behind the front row, where they knew Belle and Wendy would join Tiana.

"I think it's safe to say my secret's out," I grumbled.

"Oh, it's really not that big a deal," Wendy tried to comfort me. "Everybody will forget about it tomorrow."

"They're just looking for something to amuse them to pass the time," said Belle. "You have to admit, it is a little bit funny on the surface if you really step back from the situation and examine it without bias. Ariel said you fell out of some bushes?"

"What were you doing by their house?" asked Wendy. "Do you live in Atlantica?"

I exchanged a glance with Belle and knew that she hadn't told Wendy about my homeless plight. That made me feel just a little bit better, that she was trying to protect at least that part of my aimless identity. I didn't need the whole world knowing that I didn't have a place to stay.

"Actually, we should probably go sit down, Wendy," said Belle. "Before Mr. Frollo gets in."

Wendy shuddered. "You're right." She patted my arm. "Chin up, Shane. It's not so bad. Just a funny story to laugh about later!"

"Yeah, I guess," I said.

"Are you sure you want to sit back here?" Belle asked me.

I nodded. "Definitely."

"Okay."

She and Wendy went to take their seats at the front with Tiana as most of the rest of the students began to enter and fill up the seats around us. By choosing to sit in the back, I soon became surrounded by a cluster of the expected faces.

Aladdin, Meg, Esmeralda, and a fourth guy in their group all sat in my close vicinity. I hadn't officially met him yet, but it was pretty obvious who the fourth guy was. He had greasy red hair and a sadly deformed appearance, with a large hump on his back, powerful forearms connecting to big hands, and a pale face reminiscent of a 3D Picasso painting. Quasimodo had never been a very pretty cartoon character but after seeing his unfortunate mug in person, I couldn't help but feel really sorry for the poor bastard. Even if he wasn't real.

For his part, he seemed to be very shy and quiet, not really looking at me whilst the other three of course paid me their undivided attention.

"New Guy!" Aladdin exclaimed. "Can I just say, I love what a fuck-up you are? I mean, macing the Triton sisters outside of their own home? I don't know if that's friggin brilliant or insanely stupid, but it's ballsy, I'll give you that. I mean, could you have picked any girls at this school with a higher profile?" His words devolved into a fit of laughter.

"What did their faces look like?" asked Esmeralda, her green eyes bright. "I mean, I don't even care, I just want to know what their faces looked like. Did they scream?"

"I hope they cried," Meg said. "That stupid stuck-up bitch Aurora, I hope you blinded her. She'd probably kill herself if she couldn't see herself in a mirror anymore."

"Okay, you guys have got it all wrong," I said. "Whatever you thought you heard is not what happened."

"I heard you hid behind a tree like a psycho and then popped out with a can of Mace in each hand when they walked by…" said Esmeralda, "…and let them have it."

"That's NOT what happened!"

"So what really did happen then, stud?" inquired Meg. "Are you gonna tell us it was all just an accident?"

"It was an accident," I said, glaring at her.

Meg and Esmeralda both exchanged a knowing glance. It was clear neither of them believed me. Aladdin, on the other hand, wasn't going to let me off the hook that easily.

"All right then, man. Come clean. What's the truth, as according to you?"

"It's not really that great of a story," I said. "They didn't see me walking out from around their bushes and Aurora got startled because she doesn't know me."

"And what, you maced her because she screamed?"

"NO. I didn't mace anyone. SHE pepper sprayed ME."

"Whaaaaat?" Aladdin asked in disbelief, laughing a little. "Perfect little Aurora tried to pepper spray you? I don't believe that."

"She didn't get me full-on," I said, "because Ariel knows me. She stopped her, but a little bit of it got out in the air and we had to go wash our faces."

"How does Ariel know you?" asked Meg. "Are you already prowling on the freshmen?"

Just to taunt me, Esmeralda shook her head disapprovingly, as though she were some kind of patron saint herself, which was obviously a laugh.

"She was the first person I met on campus," I said. "I'm not prowling on anyone."

"She's actually not so bad," Esmeralda said to Meg. "She hangs out with Mowgli and Cindy's little sister. She's not like Aurora."

"Well nobody's as bad as Aurora," commented Meg. "Except for Jasmine."

"Jasmine can get it though…" Aladdin said, licking his lips and looking over at where Jasmine was sitting and texting on her phone. "Damn! Look at that!"

Meg looked deeply annoyed. "Oh, fuck you, Al."

"What?" he asked. "I can look, can't I?"

Meg just made a disgusted noise.

"What? You don't have to worry; it's not like she'd ever talk to me…"

"No, you know what, FUCK you, Aladdin."

"Seriously, it's not that big a deal. It was just a joke, chill out."

"Go suck a dick!"

Aladdin groaned and slumped back in his chair, looking up at the shadowy ceiling. "I'm in trouble again, aren't I? I can already tell. You're gonna be mad about this all week, aren't you? Just from one stupid comment."

"Maybe if you didn't constantly make stupid comments like that," Meg snapped, "I wouldn't have a reason to stay mad."

"Meg. Come on."

"A dick. Go choke on one."

"It was a joke!"

"Choke on it."

"Whatever," Aladdin said. "I'm not even gonna apologize anymore. I'm not sorry. YOU'RE just a spiteful, insecure bitch with no sense of humor."

Meg's lip curled in disgust. "Keep digging yourself deeper, genius. This is great."

"Get off your period, Meg!"

Thankfully, Esmeralda finally spoke up. "Will the two of you just shut up already? Break up and be done with it, for the rest of our sakes."

"Maybe we should!" Meg said.

"I don't care," said Aladdin, crossing his arms.

"Good!" said Meg, crossing her arms as well. "Neither do I! Go die alone, loser!"

Aladdin just rolled his eyes. I looked at Esmeralda. Judging from the exasperated demeanor she and Quasimodo were sharing, it was obvious that Al and Meg were constantly bickering and breaking up. I had met couples like them before and they always had the loudest fights as well as the most disgusting public displays of affection. It was an interesting dynamic, but I wasn't really in the mood to laugh at it.

It wasn't long before a tall, thin figure entered from behind us, his shadow passing over us like a bad omen. It almost looked like Frollo was floating as he walked past, his posture and gait erect and even. In his spidery thin hands, he was clutching a small satin bag.

"Nice purse, huh?" Aladdin whispered either to me or Quasimodo, I couldn't tell.

Quasimodo, though, whispered, "Shhh!" very urgently.

It was hard to be sure, but I thought I saw the smallest tic in Frollo's eye, and the slightest turn of his head. Had he heard Aladdin's dumb comment? I really, really hoped not but then again, if Aladdin became the focus of Frollo's fury, I might be able to avoid it altogether. Then again-again, it figured that old Al had to be sitting next to me when he made his smart-aleck remark, so there was always the high chance that Frollo would just group us together when looking for victims to murder, or give detention to, or whatever the heck he actually did to punish students here.

But if Frollo was angry, he had a peculiar way of showing it. He went up to the front of the class and actually had a bit of a smile on his face, the creepy bastard. His lips curled in that unsettling way of his, making his teeth appear large and jagged, and the creases in his face even more sunken and pronounced.

I'm reasonably sure everybody in the class felt the same chill go down their spine that I did.

"Good day, class," he said. "How are you all doing on this fine morning? Truly, it is a glorious day. We have much to be grateful for. The sun is shining down on our lovely institution and everyone appears to be in good health. How wonderful indeed."

Did his eyes linger on me when he said those last parts?

I could feel my heart starting to beat just a tic faster.

Everyone, meanwhile, was looking at each other, not really sure if he was serious or not. I mean, come on, this was Frollo, right? Frollo didn't ever smile or ask anyone how they felt, much less comment on what a nice day it was outside.

It was like if Hello Kitty had attempted to write a Frollo fan-fic and just failed miserably at keeping him in character. But I sensed that there was a storm quietly brewing, and that was bad for every one of us who was trapped in this classroom for the next forty-five minutes or so.

"I suspect you're all doing well?" he continued. "Miss Delacroix, how are you today?"

That was Belle. She appeared to be caught off guard.

"I'm, uh, I'm doing well, Mr. Frollo," she said. "Thank you."

"Excellent," he said in the creepiest way I've ever heard that word pronounced. "And how about you, Mr. Gaston? Are you feeling like a leader of men today?"

Gaston blinked. "I…yes?"

"Wonderful!" exclaimed Frollo. "This is truly wonderful news. You may be wondering, Class, why I appear to be in such high spirits."

Again, we all looked at each other, nobody brave enough to vocally acknowledge that that was exactly what we were wondering. (I was also wondering if he was the kind of man who wore boxers or briefs. Don't ask me why, it just popped into my head for some reason. What kind of underwear does pure evil prefer? I rather hoped I would never find out.)

"Well," said Frollo, "I am eager to begin class today because Third Period gets a very special treat!"

There was NO way that was a good thing. Not with that sadistic prick in charge.

Frollo reached into his satin bag and took his sweet-ass time pulling something out. Gently, he set aside the empty bag and then placed a thin black canister on his desk for us to all see.

Uh oh.

"This," he said, "right here…is an aerosol canister of Oleoresin Capsicum. Now, can anyone tell me what exactly that is?"

Everybody sat there silently for a moment. I had a pretty strong suspicion of what was in that little can of death, but I sure as hell wasn't going to say anything.

Wendy timidly raised her hand.

'Damn you, Wendy.'

"I believe that is the chemical name for pepper spray?"

'Oh fuck. Oh shit. Oh fuck.'

Frollo's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Very good, Miss Darling. You are exactly correct. Oleoresin Capsicum is a lachrymatory agent commonly used by police as a mechanism for crowd control, riot control, and as a means to non-lethally incapacitate resisting suspects, commonly known as pepper spray. Can anyone tell me what 'lachrymatory' refers to?"

Nobody said anything.

"'Lachrymatory' comes from the Latin word 'lacrima,' meaning 'tear.' Essentially, it is tear gas, a chemical compound that attacks the corneal nerves in the eyes as well as their mucus membranes, but also the mucus membranes in the nose, mouth, and lungs. Now lachrymatory agents have some very, very interesting effects on their victims. Some of the many effects include irritation on the skin and in the eyes, crying, coughing, sneezing, choking, nausea, vomiting, and even blindness! Now isn't that just fascinating?"

His eyes were definitely lingering over me now. There was no doubt about it.

"Another interesting little tidbit about tear gases in particular is that there are treaties between various countries not to use them in warfare. Bullets are acceptable, and bladed weapons as well. Tanks and missiles and rockets? Oh, they are just dandy. But for some reason tear gas of all things has been formally agreed upon to not be used. It is considered inhumane. And yet, in our own country, and in many others, law enforcement agencies use a form of it. Granted, when compared to some of the more toxic chemical sprays utilized in the First World War, it is a much milder strain, but the point remains that you are more likely to get sprayed with tear gas in the form of mace or pepper spray by a common police officer on the street than by an enemy soldier in war."

A big part of my brain was telling me to get up and run out of that classroom as fast as I could, consequences be damned. But a bigger, more cowardly part was keeping me rooted to my seat, saying that running off would be signing my death warrant.

"Does anyone know what the active ingredient is in pepper spray?"

Silence.

"No one? No one at all?"

Gaston got brave.

"Pepper?"

Frollo's face looked actually offended by his stupidity. "No, you nitwit. The answer is 'capsaicin.' Does anyone know what capsaicin is derived from?"

Nobody had the answer for that either.

"It is really pitiful how little any of you actually know about anything beyond the technique of sending vapid little text messages to each other day in and day out," Frollo sneered at us. "Capsaicin comes from Capsicum fruits. Capsicum fruits include chilies and various kinds of peppers. Peppers, emphasis on the plural, as in not the common seasoning, Mr. Gaston, but the seeded fruit. As in bell peppers, red peppers, green peppers, hence the name pepper spray. I assume you've all heard of peppers before."

Some unenthusiastic nodding.

"Mr. Barrera!" Frollo exclaimed suddenly. "You are of Hispanic extract, as we established yesterday, correct?"

Oh God. Why me. (But deep down, I knew why.)

"Uh…yes sir."

"Speak up, Mr. Barrera, I can't hear you."

"Yes sir, I am Hispanic. Part, at least."

"Of course you are. Chiles and peppers are common ingredients in Latin American dishes, particularly in Mexico. Are you Mexican, Mr. Barrera?"

"Part."

"So that's a yes."

"Yes." I swallowed. "Sir."

"Excellent!" Frollo said, grinning horrifically. "Then you must have already established a taste for chilies and peppers! Do you enjoy spicy foods?"

"Not particularly, sir."

Frollo's eyes narrowed slightly. "Oh no? Well that's a shame, Mr. Barrera, it's in your blood. That spicy Latin blood of yours, as they say. Perhaps you're more accustomed to it than you realize."

I was dreading where he was going with this. But what could I do? The classroom had gotten so quiet you could hear a pin drop. All I could hear, though, other than Frollo's cruel baritone was the sound of my spicy Latin blood pumping in my ears. I wondered if he could somehow hear it too.

"Now what I have here on my desk," Frollo said, addressing the rest of the class, "is a particularly potent brand of pepper spray, custom mixed by our very own chemistry professor Ms. Yzma. The kind of spray commonly used by law enforcement is estimated to successfully immobilize up to 90 percent of assailants and criminals. This particular brand, however, is reported to be successful up to 98 percent of its targets. That is a significant upgrade…near perfection, actually."

"I'm sorry, sir, Mr. Frollo, but…why are you showing us this? Like, what does any of this have to do with Ethics?"

The question had come from Jasmine.

Frollo's eyes slowly drifted over to look at her but, to her credit, she maintained eye contact. I have to give her props for that. (I sure as hell couldn't have done it.)

"Miss Ghali, I don't believe that I have had the privilege of hearing your voice before just now," Frollo said in a toneless voice. "It is a bit curious to me that you have not even attempted to answer any questions either yesterday or today, but you are apparently more than willing to ask them."

Jasmine stared at him for a few moments before saying, "Well, is there an answer?"

Frollo smirked. "Of course there is, Miss Ghali, and I'm actually glad that you asked." He looked at the rest of us and continued, "The reason I am giving this lecture is precisely because of ethics. As I previously stated, the police often use such lachrymatory agents to incapacitate criminals. But if we look at the very essence of criminality, there is a fascinating relationship between action and consequence. Between foresight and judgment. Between learned history and future deterrence. There are many stories of unscrupulous characters who will remorselessly commit a crime, and then not bat an eye when staring down the barrel of a police officer's gun. We would think of such people as fearless, even a bit crazy, correct? And yet at the same time, those same assumed 'fearless' individuals who won't bat an eye at the gun might quiver and shake, and even immediately surrender at the sight of a Taser or mace. Why? Because even though the gun has far more lethal capacity, people who have felt the pain of an electric shock from a Taser or the agonizing suffocation brought by pepper spray are desperate to not undergo those experiences again. They have no concept of fear for the gun, which can kill them, but if they've been hurt by the lesser, supposedly non-lethal tool, they inexplicably fear it more. This fascinating, seemingly counterintuitive phenomenon can be found in multiple examples of human behavior." He paused briefly. "I take it that your generation enjoys attending the cinema to view films for entertainment purposes, correct?"

Various mumbles of affirmation.

"I thought so," said Frollo in a bored voice, as though the idea of spending a couple hours catching a flick was completely alien to him. "Mr. LeFou, pray tell me, what is your favorite film?"

LeFou looked a bit flabbergasted to be called upon. I figured that most teachers, much like the rest of us, probably liked to pretend that he didn't exist.

"I, uh, don't know," he sputtered. "I like Adam Sandler movies."

Ugh. Of course he did. And of course Adam Sandler of all people existed here, for some godforsaken reason. That was reason enough for me to believe that Walt Disney, not God, was behind this whole upside down purgatory of a world, as if I needed any more proof.

"Do you enjoy action films?"

"Uh, yeah, definitely."

"Unfortunately, since the great Disney's passing, our culture has become increasingly liberal. You can see it in what they're allowing to be shown in movies nowadays. It's not uncommon to watch somebody get gunned down onscreen in an action film, or even suffer something as grisly as a beheading, for example. But curiously, oftentimes when people watch a simulated death occur, even in some cases when it's quite gory, their reaction is less than you might expect. Watch a man's head explode from a sniper shot in a war film, and see how the audience barely reacts. Then show the very same people somebody getting a paper cut, or kicked in the groin, and suddenly everyone winces. Can anybody tell me why this is? Certainly, a paper cut is not more painful than getting disemboweled by a chainsaw. Why then does watching somebody slam their fingers in a car door get a stronger visceral reaction from people than watching somebody get shot multiple times by an assault rifle?"

Jasmine actually raised her hand.

Frollo smiled. "Miss Ghali?"

"Because we can relate to something like a paper cut. We know what it feels like to get a paper cut, or slam our fingers in a door. But most of us haven't been shot, or beheaded or whatever…"

Frollo almost chuckled. "Or 'whatever' indeed. Well, Miss Ghali, despite your lack of eloquence, you are in this case completely correct. People learn an instinctive behavior from experiencing pain. You can tell a small child all you want not to touch a hot oven, but oftentimes, it is not until they actually do touch it, and then burn their little fingers, that they truly learn that they shouldn't. And then most of them never do it again."

We sat there in silence, still not sure where exactly he was going with this. What was it leading up to? What was the climax to this seemingly random lecture?

"Now, tying it all together to this Ethics course and why I brought in this canister," said Frollo, "let us take that example of the small child and the hot stove, or the criminal and the Taser. In most cases, after the child burns his fingers, he learns not to touch it again. After you have been shocked once by a Taser, you will do everything you can not to get shocked again. But, as in everything to do with the imperfect creatures that are human beings, there are exceptions to this rule. Every once in a while, there is a child who, despite the pain and suffering caused by his foolish actions, does not learn his lesson. He touches the stove again. Or he sticks a fork in the electrical socket. Now, in the larger scheme of things, these individuals who are incapable of learning from their mistakes and reforming are poisonous to a society. They are irredeemable non-contributors who must be eradicated lest they break down the statutes that have been set up to support the cultural infrastructure. This is an unfortunate but imperative truth."

I was beginning to feel very nervous again.

"So it is thusly of paramount importance to determine," Frollo continued, his face darkening into a sinister grin, "whether particular individuals who are prone to making destructive decisions can be trained or taught to not make those decisions, lest they be faced with a painful punishment. For most highly-functioning human beings, it is thought that we don't need to literally feel the pain itself to deter us from breaking the law. The mere thought of the pain, the idea of the consequences, should be enough in theory to deter most people. Now, I personally believe that everyone is better served getting at least a taste of that pain to always look back upon and remember as they advance through life, but that unfortunately is not a popular belief. However, there are still those for whom the mere thought of pain or punishment is not enough a deterrent. There are still those for whom the literal physical memory of pain or punishment, even, is still not a deterrent. There are those who have touched the stove, who have been shocked by the Taser, who have choked on the pepper spray, who still cannot be dissuaded from nihilistically pursuing their unholy interests no matter the consequence. And when the Taser or the mace are not enough to spur fearful submission, then that is when you must use the gun. A final solution. The final solution, if you will."

A thick sense of dread had descended down over us all. You would think that we were prisoners of war being addressed by a malevolent warden before we got sent to the gas chambers, or rounded up and shot by a firing squad.

However, Frollo wasn't planning on executing any of us today. Most of the class had nothing to fear, at least for the moment. His targets were much more specific.

"So today really is a fun day for us all, Class," said Frollo. "Why, you ask? Well, because we are going to get to witness a demonstration! Doesn't that sound exciting?"

I was trembling as I tried to will myself into invisibility, but alas, I had no such magical abilities. I could see the other students exchanging nervous glances. Even the little rebellious crowd sitting near me looked anxious. Quasimodo in particular looked even whiter than he had ten minutes ago, which I hadn't been sure was possible.

"Mr. Barrera!" Frollo exclaimed, completely unsurprisingly. "Will you stand up, please?"

Immediately, there were sharp intakes of breath and even a few whispered words of profanity, surprisingly none of which had come from me. I was completely silent.

Despite Frollo's faux demeanor of pleasantness, I knew that this was no polite request. The only thing that gave me enough degree of courage to stand was that I was all the way in the back of the classroom, and Frollo was all the way in front. He couldn't really do anything to me from where he stood without affecting all the people in front of me.

All eyes turned on me as I shakily stood up, trying to look and feel brave, but knowing that neither was true of me.

"Do you consider yourself to be a strong young man?" Frollo asked me.

"Uh, I don't know…"

"Oh, this is no time for false humility, Mr. Barrera. It's a simple enough question. Do you consider yourself to possess a strong degree of fortitude? Can you withstand very much?"

I swallowed. "I guess it depends…"

Frollo smiled. "On what?"

"On what I have to be strong against."

"I see the hoped sentiment behind your weak excuse of an answer, but I find it to be rather bland, I'm afraid. You seem to not be very confident in yourself, which is very strange indeed, considering the stories I have heard of your spirited conduct on and off campus the last two days. It really is a shame, to not be confident in oneself and one's abilities. Fortunately for you, however, Mr. Barrera, you are going to get the chance to find out just exactly how strong you really are!"

This was very, very, VERY bad.

"Will you come up to the front, Mr. Barrera?"

Everyone stared at me to see what I would do. I could see the anxiousness in Belle's and Wendy's and Tiana's eyes. Even Gaston and LeFou looked somewhat uneasy. Though I'm sure they had no concern for my physical well-being, Frollo had that kind of effect on people. You could never really relax, because you never knew whether you would become his next target.

And unfortunately for me, I happened to have fallen into being exactly that.

"Do I…have to?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Why yes you do," said Frollo. "Remember the waiver that you signed this morning?"

I had no idea what he was talking about.

"No…"

"Well I have it right here in front of me. When you signed in after arriving late to campus today, you signed that waiver, remember? The one where you volunteered to be an example for our class demonstration today?"

Now I knew that the slimy bastard was lying. I hadn't signed anything, except for the same sign-in sheet at Mrs. Potts' front desk that Ariel, Aurora, and Phillip had signed as well. There were already plenty of names on it, not just ours.

But I knew that I had no leg to stand on here in this world. I didn't have any parents to get outraged for me if I was abused or mistreated. I didn't have any money for a lawyer, however the legal system might work out here. I didn't even have a real identity. I had no flippin' idea what information Jafar's file of me held. I couldn't answer my own birthdate, former address, schools, towns, or social security number.

In short, I basically lacked any rights whatsoever.

And Jafar probably knew that, the son of a bitch. Somehow, he knew that I didn't come from any solid kind of support system to worry about coming after the school if they did anything to me. I wondered how long it had taken him and Frollo to come up with a plan to humiliate and/or maim me as an example for everyone else.

Probably not long, knowing them.

I decided to try and hold onto whatever shred of dignity I could find, most of them having escaped the moment I had even entertained the thought of coming to this stupid fucking world for whatever idiotic experiment the Cat and his Handler(s?) wanted to conduct.

"I can't say that I do remember signing anything, sir," I said, trying to maintain eye contact with the soulless monster, "but if you say that I did, I must have. I mean, you're the professor of Ethics, so you would never lie. Because that would make you a hypocrite! That would make you unethical! And that just can't be true."

There was shocked, hushed reaction from the other students at my boldness. But I could see a muted smile appearing on the faces of Aladdin, Meg, and Esmeralda.

Frollo's eyes were furious little slits of rage. I could tell that I had struck a nerve, which was simultaneously exhilarating and terrifying.

"Come up to the front of the class."

I got out from behind my desk and slowly made the trek, feeling like I was on Death Row being led to the electric chair. Most of the girls looked to be near tears, especially the ones who had the misfortune of considering me to be a friend.

It felt like forever. When I got to the front of the classroom, I stood there and faced Frollo with my shoulders held high as I could. I knew my face was ashen, and my heart was pounding, but I didn't want to let him see that.

He was taller than me, but incredibly thin, and of course much older. I had no doubt I could easily take him in a fist fight. But part of growing up had taught me that the older you got, the less often things were resolved so simply. Life was crueler than that.

Frollo grinned at me. "Now, Mr. Barrera, you are going to be part of our little class experiment. Let us all pretend that you have committed an egregious crime, though I am sure such a responsible, honest young man such as yourself would never do such a thing."

His hands went to the canister and just about everybody reacted with a jolt. I think I even heard Wendy let out a frightened little scream.

Frollo picked up the canister, but he didn't point it at me. Instead he held it lightly in his hands, running his thin fingers casually over it as he continued to look at me, taking pleasure in trying to make me sweat.

"Is it true, Mr. Barrera, that you have had the misfortune of being on the receiving end of a pepper spray blast?"

I swallowed hard. "Yeah."

"How would you describe the experience?"

"It sucked."

"Such an extensive answer! I don't think I have ever heard it described quite so profoundly before, and in such exhaustive detail!"

I just glared at him, having accepted my likely fate.

Frollo reached into the satin bag again and pulled out a clip of cash before holding it out to the class to see.

"Here in my hands I have the bountiful sum of two-hundred dollars."

Jasmine made a disgusted noise.

Frollo's eyes flashed in her direction. "I'm sure this is mere pocket change to you, Miss Ghali, but I imagine that for most of the rest of us, this would be very useful money to possess. Who here couldn't find a use for some extra currency?"

Nobody responded.

"As I thought," said Frollo. "Now, as I was saying, let us imagine that there is a meek old woman, an innocent civilian lost in a dark alley, perhaps somewhere in the seedier part of town." He glanced over at the back of the class. "I believe some of you are more familiar with it than others."

Aladdin, Meg, and Esmeralda all stared back at him with the utmost hatred, which Frollo seemed to revel in.

"Now let us also imagine that Mr. Barrera here is a desperate, immoral criminal who sees our helpless, vulnerable old woman standing all alone. A very drastic departure from his actual character, I know, but join me in this silly fantasy. In Mr. Barrera's fictional past, he has committed various petty crimes before, and perhaps some larger ones. He has robbed plenty of little old ladies before. And at some point during his shameful criminal endeavors, let us say that Mr. Barrera has had direct contact with Oleoresin Capsicum. So he knows exactly what it feels like."

That part was definitely true at least.

"Now, our question will be this. Is the promise of a familiar pain enough to stop our criminal? Is the pain itself enough to stop him? It is a given that Mr. Barrera has no moral compass to rely upon. Unfortunately he did not pay enough attention in his Ethics class before he dropped out of school. So, when he sees this little innocent old lady, he is not worried about the moral qualms of stealing from her. But let us take our fantasy a smidgen further. Let us imagine this is a stronger society, one with a much more decisive and condemning judicial system. For a case like Mr. Barrera, maybe he has never done anything quite so bad enough that he is locked away forever in prison, but he does have enough of a record that they have outfitted him with a special mechanism to dissuade him from committing further felonies and misdemeanors. Think of a shock collar that some dogs are outfitted with, so that they don't run away from their yards. You have seen this before, yes?"

A few people nodded slightly.

"In this wonderful world we have created, these collars for criminals are sophisticated little devices which can emit a shock through the bodies of the subjects when they try to commit a crime. Or, they emit a spray of tear gas. The latter is the type of collar we will imagine Mr. Barrera has been outfitted with."

"I think I would try to take it off," I said lamely.

"If you attempt to remove it, you will be blasted with the lachrymatory agent and carted off right back to prison. You see, these collars are not only deterrents against crime, but they are also quick visual indicators of what type of person the subjects are. Wouldn't that be useful for the rest of us, to see and immediately know without a shadow of a doubt, whether certain individuals have undesirable backgrounds and identities?"

"Sounds to me like when the Nazis made the Jews wear a Star of David on all their clothing," Esmeralda said in a disgusted voice.

Frollo's grin was immense. "An interesting analogy from Miss Guybertaut! But unless I am mistaken, you seem to be casting our useful little collars in a negative light?"

"That's the only light I can see them in," Esmeralda responded.

"Perhaps certain types of people would not support such a helpful little device," Frollo said, "but I think as a whole, society would come to appreciate them."

"Maybe a fascist one."

Frollo's voice went dangerously low. "That is enough, Miss Guybertaut."

Esmeralda continued to glare at him but she shut her mouth. I was secretly grateful that she had said something, though I knew it wouldn't dissuade Frollo from whatever he was planning to do.

"Now that we know the background, let us paint the scene," announced the emaciated madman. "We are in a dark alley. On one end of the alley is the little old woman, lost, alone, vulnerable. In her possession, she has two hundred dollars in her purse." He held up the satin bag and placed the money back into it. "On the other end of the alley, Mr. Barrera knows that she has money, and that she is an easy, feeble target. But he has this collar that will blast him with pepper spray if he attempts to rob her."

"So I choose not to rob her," I said. "There, experiment over. Lesson learned."

"I'm afraid it will not be quite as easy as that," said Frollo with a chuckle. "Why, you underestimate the depths of your own depravity, my boy! You are going to attempt to commit this robbery. That is what you already signed up for, and that is exactly what is going to happen."

"And if I don't do anything?" I asked.

"Let me make something clear," said Frollo, "since you seem to be having trouble understanding. You are going to be sprayed. This part is not up for debate. However, to ensure that you have ample motivation to continue, there will be a reward involved."

My heart sank and I could no longer feel my legs underneath me. Of course I had known from the moment that Frollo had called me up to the front of the class that there was little chance I was not going to get pepper sprayed, but it's hard to silence that illogically hopeful little voice, isn't it? There's always that tiny part of us that hopes we're going to be delivered from our dooms, right up to the end.

Still, at least I knew now for sure, and I could try to brace myself for the coming pain. That was easier said than done, obviously.

"The reward," continued Frollo, "is that if you manage to succeed in taking the 'bag' from the little old lady, you may keep the money inside. What's more is that, afterwards, if you have succeeded at robbing her, and you are able to walk out of this classroom with your own power, without any help, then nobody in this class will be tested on the syllabus at the end of the week, and you personally will be assigned absolutely no homework from me whatsoever in this class from now until the last day of school, outside of studying for exams, of course. Now how does that sound?"

My mind was racing as everybody began to whisper. I knew I could desperately use the money and, though I didn't really give a flying fuck about my grade in this class, it would be nice not to have any homework I had to do. Also, if I succeeded, I might gain respect from some of my fellow students, and in some sick, twisted way, even maybe from Frollo as well.

Then again, knowing Frollo, the chances of me having any hope of succeeding were astronomically very low.

"So what do you say, Mr. Barrera?" asked Frollo.

"I don't really see much choice," I said, my throat dry as the desert Simba had almost died in before being rescued by Timon and Pumbaa. Unfortunately, the wisecracking meerkat and his jolly warthog pal were nowhere to be found.

"Well you're right about that much. After all, that's what you signed up for!" Frollo smiled and then raised his voice. "We will need two more volunteers!"

Everybody of course reacted with the expected fright and tremors.

Frollo rolled his eyes. "Not to get sprayed, you spineless mongrels. I need someone to act as the little old lady with the bag."

Nobody raised their hand.

"Miss Ghali, how about you?" Frollo asked. "You won't lose any sleep over two hundred dollars being stolen from you."

Jasmine's voice was resolute. "I REFUSE."

"Oh do you now?"

"And don't try to intimidate me into saying that I've signed some kind of volunteer waiver," said Jasmine, "because I haven't. And if you have a problem with that, you can take it up with my father and our lawyers."

Frollo smiled mirthlessly. "Of course that will not be necessary, Miss Ghali. We only want willing volunteers, naturally. Do I have anyone else? How about you, Miss Guybertaut? You were very outspoken just now."

"No," Esmeralda said firmly. "I won't be part of this."

"Perhaps I should cast the other role first," Frollo said, looking a little frustrated. Good. If he expected everyone to jump onboard for this degrading experiment, I was glad that he was disappointed. "Who would like to play the role of the spray collar?"

Everyone stared.

"By that, I mean who would like to be spraying Mr. Barrera with this canister?"

A few jaws dropped.

"Mr. Gaston, how about you?"

Gaston blinked rapidly. "Me?"

"You said you were feeling like a leader of men, did you not?"

"Uh…yeah. Yes."

"So how would you like this opportunity? I'm sure Mr. Barrera would appreciate you being so gracious as to volunteer to assist him in this very important experiment he so passionately believes in."

Gaston's eyes traveled over to me and then a smile slowly appeared on his chiseled face. Pressing his hands down on his desk, muscles flexing, he pushed himself up to his feet.

"I would be glad to assist Mr. Barrera in that way, sir."

"Wonderful!" said Frollo. "I'm glad to see the two of you are mending your fences after yesterday's uncouth behavior."

Gaston strode up to the classroom and stood next to me, grinning.

"As a reward for your initiative," Frollo said, "if Mr. Barrera fails to steal the purse, you shall receive the money instead, Mr. Gaston."

Gaston's dastardly smile grew wider. "Sweet! I'd like to see him get past me!"

"I appreciate your enthusiasm, Mr. Gaston, but remember that you are imitating an inanimate object. You are merely a collar. You have no hands or muscles, so you cannot physically restrain him through your own power. You can only spray him with the gas."

Gaston looked a little disappointed but when he glanced at the canister and realized how much pain it would cause me, he brightened right back up.

"Now that we have one of our supporting roles cast, do we have a volunteer for the other?" Frollo asked.

Nobody said anything.

Now he looked pissed. "If nobody volunteers, there will be a pop quiz tomorrow on the properties of the Capsicum genus that I assure you all you don't want to take."

"I'll do it," said Belle suddenly.

At first, I was surprised. But when I met her eyes, I realized that she wasn't volunteering because she was afraid to take a stupid quiz. She was doing it so that I would have somebody up there with me that supported me. She didn't want me to be alone with Frollo and Gaston up there as everybody watched me suffer.

It's kind of hard for me to describe just how grateful I felt at that moment, so I won't even try. But if you've ever been in such a hopeless, lonely position, you might be able to relate what she was trying to save me from.

'Thank you,' I mouthed.

Her nod was almost indistinguishable but I could see the sympathy in her eyes.

"A thank you from us both, Miss Delacroix," said Frollo. "Please come stand next to me."

She got up and did so.

"Let's get in place now," Frollo said, looking positively ecstatic. "Miss Delacroix, stand right here with the bag." He walked over to Gaston and handed him the canister from the desk. "Now, Mr. Gaston, here is the canister and it is imperative that you handle it correctly. Give yourself a wide berth between you and Mr. Barrera. The aerosol travels quite far, so don't worry about having to be up too close. Ten feet will be sufficient."

Gaston got into position, looking almost as eager as Frollo did.

"Make sure you hold it straight out," Frollo instructed, "and press down on the nozzle here. It will shoot out in a jet at first, but the mist will expand into a cloud of gas that will mostly envelop Mr. Barrera. Now, I must warn you against getting overzealous with the spray. We are indoors, remember, so a little bit will go a long way. Hold it down for no longer than second at the most. Any more and we all may suffer nearly as much as Mr. Barrera will. Of course, nothing is quite like getting blasted full on with this specific brand, but it is still something we would all like to avoid. Fortunately, the set-up of my room is large and spacious enough that we can remain unaffected if we stay far enough away."

Frollo gestured at everyone else. "Let us scoot the desks far enough back that nobody else will be vulnerable, and then everyone can stand up so that they can get a good view. We wouldn't like for anyone to miss the demonstration or else we may have to repeat it another day!" He shot a devilish grin in my direction.

Everybody did as Frollo instructed and then gathered around to watch, but far enough away that they weren't in any immediate danger of suffering my same looming agony.

Frollo walked slowly over to stand between Gaston and Belle and he clasped his hands together as he faced me. We stared at each other, man and boy, instructor and student, villain and hapless Mary-Sue. His eyes burned with a low, evil intensity and at that moment, there was nothing about him that seemed fake or manufactured. He was living, breathing, and right there in front of me, and the pain that I was about to feel was going to be real too.

I was seriously regretting meeting that stupid Cat.

But it was too late to do anything about it now.

"Now, Mr. Barrera, let us see just how much fortitude you actually possess. You've felt a similar spray before so you have a small idea of what to expect, though I assure you that whatever you previously experienced was nowhere near as potent as what you are shortly about to. Do you have any final questions or comments?"

Everybody waited for me to speak.

"Well," I said slowly, "when I get the two-hundred dollars, remind me to buy you a sandwich, sir, because you look a little malnourished. And don't worry, I'll make sure to hold the salt and put plenty of pepper on it for you, since you seem to be so fond of the stuff."

Frollo's lips curled up into something that was much more of a sneer than a smile as everyone reacted as subtly as they could to my seemingly suicidal quip.

But hey, what's the point of being a sorry excuse for a Mary-Sue if you can't attempt a few one-liners in the face of certain annihilation, right?

"A surprisingly devil-may-care attitude from our guinea pig," said Frollo. "But I am afraid attitude alone will not serve you much in here."

I exchanged a final glance with Belle on the other end of the room. She could hardly maintain eye contact with me. For some weird reason, I almost felt a little sorrier for her than I did for myself.

Frollo's ominous voice quickly brought me back to reality…or, whatever half reality I had to remind myself that this realm was.

"Mr. Gaston, get the canister ready. It is time to face the music…

Let us see how Mr. Barrera sings."

{Shit just got real! Our poor, poor miserable protagonist has no idea what he's gotten himself into, but unfortunately for him, pepper spray will be the LEAST of his worries before the end of this story. But let me stop before I give too much away ;)

Thanks again for all the awesome reviews, guys. Knowing that there are people who are reading my story so voraciously and waiting for each update gives me extra motivation to write the chapters, especially as the audience grows. (It helps that I've had some time at work and in my free time to hanker down and whip these babies out, like this super long one.)

I know the description SAYS this is a parody of the 'gratuitously erotic,' so I know you're all waiting for the bonings to commence (and they will! I promise!), but remember, part of the humor here is that it's different than all the other stories where our favorite characters basically just walk up to each other and start going at it with little motivation or reason. Shane has to work for it (like most of us do in real life haha), and really now, who gets laid the first or second day of starting at a new high school? Maybe the first weekend, but even that's a stretch. This isn't college! Haha, no but I do assure you guys that it's coming…but the plot has to believably lead to it. Believe it or not, there is a much bigger story arc I have worked into this thing than might appear from looking at the premise alone, and we'll be speeding up the time passed eventually. (We won't be detailing each and every period every single school day…we won't even be having to read through each and every day soon.) And the conquest-list is just the MacGuffin plot device to get the ball rolling here (and to satirize all the bajillion sex stories on this site about innocent characters from children's movies haha.) So never fear! The secks IS coming, and soon…it just may not be exactly how everyone might expect. You'll have to see! :)

Glad to see you guys are enjoying it so far, and I hope I've been leaving you wanting more. Be sure to review and let me know what you think! Until next time…happy reading, everyone.}