Shawn walked up to Cory who was sitting on the lunch table. He handed him a rolled-up newspaper. "Hey, Cory. Brought you a great article on Barry Bonds."
"Ah, the forty-three million dollar man."
"Why do they call him that?" Stuart questioned.
"Because that's what he's getting to play baseball for six years," Shawn answered.
"7.16 million a year?"
"If that's what it comes out to, yeah," replied Shawn.
"He happens to be one of the top guys in baseball," Cory told him.
"Well, I happen to think that Mr. Feeny is one of the top guys in teaching, and he makes about forty thousand a year."
"That stinks," Shawn said.
"I appreciate your sympathy, Shawn," George commented.
"Finally. Something we agree on."
"Yeah," Cory agreed.
"Feeny ain't worth that kind of money."
George sighed. "I take back my last statement."
"You thought I meant he was overpaid? I meant that Mr. Feeny is grossly and tragically underpaid."
Cory put his hand on Stuart's shoulder. "Minkus—May I call you Minkus? Does spelling ever change? No. Does history ever change? Uh-uh. Does Feeny ever change? Never. Know why? He doesn't have to. Know why? 'Cause nothing about teaching sixth grade ever changes."
"Is that why you became a teacher?" Lucas questioned, flashing a smile.
Cory just looked over at George and smiled. "Yeah," he replied.
"Well, I think you're wrong."
"Well, I think I'm right. I think in about five seconds, Feeny walks in here, takes a sip from the drinking fountain, flicks his mustache, goes to the coffee machine, sees me, and says 'Good Morning, Mr. Matthews. I trust you've done the homework.' Every day the same thing. He's so predictable." He held out both hands toward Mr. Feeny.
The teacher did exactly as Cory said he would. "Good Morning, Mr. Matthews. I trust you've done the homework."
"I never knew I was so predictable," George said. "I also don't know why I always bothered to ask you when the answer was always no." Maya raised an eyebrow at this.
"Wow Mr. Goody Goody Matthews, looks like we have a lot more in common than I thought," Maya said with a devious smirk.
"Yes, I did, sir."
"But my little sister ate it," Cory and Feeny said at the same time.
Cory turned his head towards his sister and saw Morgan giving him a curious look. "What? He knew we didn't have a dog. You know what, maybe Eric would've been more believable than you."
"I take offense to that," Eric responded with a raised finger. Cory just rolled his eyes in response.
"You are so predictable," George told the boy before walking away.
"Oh, the days when you being predictable was the problem," Feeny reminisced.
…
Mr. Feeny erased the chalk on his chalkboard. "This week in Social Studies, we'll be talking about prejudice."
"Good, 'cause I'm prejudiced against the scungy food cafeteria," Cory replied. He high-fived Shawn.
"We will be discussing black slavery in the American south, the Jews in Nazi Germany, and several examples of prejudice throughout history. Tonight your assignment is to read the first thirty pages of that book," Feeny said as he passed out copies of The Diary of Anne Frank.
"Aw, man. It's a book about some girl," Cory commented, disappointed.
"Wow. That's certainly a different attitude than you have now. You taught us about how important that book is, and speak about it in such high regard," Riley noted.
"Huh," Cory replied, not taking his eyes from the screen.
The bell rang. Feeny motioned with his finger for Cory to come to his desk. "Mr. Matthews."
"I'll read it anyways. I'll do my homework, really."
"I note an escalating tendency for you to make humorous comments about the things I'm teaching, Mr. Matthews. You are making my job very difficult."
"Well, we both know it's not very hard to teach sixth grade, so I always thought you secretly liked that I make it a little more challenging."
"You must have liked it. You were our teacher every year since sixth grade, we couldn't seem to get rid of you," Cory told the former teacher, again with a fond smile.
"I must be a masochist," Feeny joked in response.
"Oh, so that's it. My job is easy."
"Well, you know, same stuff every year. The only thing that changes is the students."
"Well, I guess the students didn't change anymore after this," Cory added. "Seriously, how did you manage to be our teacher slash principal for what, seven years?"
"Bad luck, probably," George replied with a smile.
"You know, I always thought you had the easy job, just sitting in class, listening."
"Are you kidding? Thirty-five hours a week in here with you? Major homework every night? It never stops, Mr. Feeny. And you want to know what I get for all that? Five measly bucks a week. You probably make that in an hour."
"Yes, I do. That's why I can afford that Ferrari in my driveway."
"You don't drive a Ferrari."
"Oh, right. It's a Gremlin." He got up. "In any event, perhaps I have been underestimating the difficulty of your job as a sixth-grader."
"Well, perhaps you have, Mr. Feeny."
"Mmm."
"What?"
"I could give you a chance to prove your theory."
"And here comes the starting point of another one of Mr. Feeny's lessons," Riley announced.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, why don't we trade jobs for the rest of the week?"
"Because you wouldn't do that."
"Oh, yes, I would. You may teach one of my classes until Friday, at which point, you will administer a test that I have prepared."
Zay warned, "You're walking right into a trap."
"Will I have to take it?"
"You'll be the teacher, Mr. Matthews. You'll be having the easy job, giving the test. And if more students than normal pass, you win. And if more students fail, I win."
"So, while I'm doing your job, what are you gonna do?"
"Well, since you'll be sitting in my seat, I think it's only fair that I should be sitting in yours."
"You mean, you'd be like, my student?"
"Like...yeah."
"Yes!"
"Would you enjoy that?"
"Yeah, that'd be ok. And you'd be taking the test, right?"
"Right."
"Ok, deal. Just how you said. No take-backs."
"No take-backs. But why don't we make this experiment...a little more interesting?"
Lucas shook his head. "Oh-no. This can't be good"
...
Amy and Morgan were sitting on the couch, playing cards. Eric walked in with a girl. "Hi, Mom. Hey, Weez."
"Hey, Eric," Amy responded with a smile.
"Hi, Eric. Hi, new girlfriend."
"Oh, ignore her. When she was born, the doctor had to pry her little foot out of her big mouth," he told the teenage girl.
"And when you were born, the doctor must have dropped you," Morgan shot back.
"Funny. I get that one a lot."
Amy walked over to the girl and held her hand out. "Hi, I'm the mom. It's nice to meet you."
"Hi."
"My name's Morgan and I'm five and a half."
"Well, my name is Linda and I'm fifteen and three-quarters."
"I like her!" Morgan decided.
Amy questioned, "You guys want something to eat?"
"Sure. Could you, uh…" He motioned his head towards his little sister.
"Uh, Morgan, honey, I could really, really use your help in the kitchen."
"Well, you're just going to have to be more independent, 'cause I want to stay and talk to Linda."
"I liked Linda. What happened to her?" Morgan questioned.
Eric put his hand on his heart. "She left me for the captain of the football team."
"Good for her," Cory responded, teasingly. "I'm sure she's much happier."
"So...you think I'm a new girlfriend, do you?"
"Uh-huh."
"Uh, guys, could we talk about, like, anything else?" Eric asked.
Joshua criticized, "Way to be obvious that you have something to hide."
"Are there a lot of old girlfriends?"
"Billions."
Eric pinched his nose. "Does anyone else have that real sharp pain behind their eyes? I know I do."
"Well, I don't think I'm a new girlfriend. Your brother told me that he just wanted to study with me."
"Oh, please. You're going to fall for that one?"
Amy walked in. "Major snackage is now being served in the main dining room."
Morgan pulled Linda's hand. "Come on, it's getting cold."
"It's ice cream."
"Come on, it's getting warm!"
"So, isn't it about time Morgan got her own apartment?" Eric asked his mom.
"Personally, I think I'm one of the reasons why she decided to date you in the first place. It's not the first time I helped you get a girlfriend," Morgan told him with a smug look.
As the two went to the kitchen, Alan and Cory entered the home. "Whoa. That bike is fast."
"I heard your engine groaning on that last hill, Dad."
Amy came back into the living room. "Were you two racing?"
"No, no. I was just rushing home, and Dad happened to see me and tried to catch up."
"Racing."
"Hurrying in a manly fashion," Alan corrected.
"Now, why were you rushing to get home? I think you'd stay around school a while and show off your new bike."
"Oh, I couldn't wait to tell you. Mr. Feeny and I made a bet that I can teach Social Studies better than he can. I'm gonna be the teacher for the rest of the week. Isn't that great?"
"Cory, you barely manage a C-plus in social studies," Amy reminded him. "How you gonna teach it?"
"A C-plus?" Lucas repeated in surprise. "And here I always thought you did well in school."
"Hey, Mom. The book does all the teaching. Feeny's just Vanna White pointing to the letters." He did a hand gesture like Vanna White does on Wheel of Fortune.
"What exactly did you two high rollers bet?" Alan questioned.
"Well, I put up my bike."
"What? I just bought you that bike!"
"Relax, Dad. Feeny's the one who's going to lose big."
"What did Mr. Feeny put up against your bike, his garden weasel?" Amy asked.
"One-fifth of his weekly paycheck, 'cause I'm teaching one of his five classes. And come Friday, I'm rich!" He walked upstairs.
"If he earns 40,000 dollars a year, and there's 50 school weeks in a year, then that's only two hundred dollars for you," Farkle calculated.
"Of course you know how many school weeks are in a year," Maya replied. "And two hundred dollars is still a lot of money. Well, maybe not to the boy with rich parents. Anyways, Matthews what do you say you and me make things interesting," Maya said, turning her attention to Cory.
"Maya, you know this isn't gonna end well, right Mr. Feeny?" Riley replied.
"Why don't we just keep watching and see." Feeny replied with his own knowing smile.
"Why does Feeny want that bike?" Alan questioned, upset.
"Oh, Alan, obviously, this is one of those Mr. Feeny lesson things." She walked away, but Alan held onto her wrist.
"So that's where you get that from," Maya groaned.
"Maya, you already knew that," Cory replied.
"Yeah but it's weird seeing it."
"Well, what if the lesson is 'I want that bike'?"
"Do you really think a grown man would want a kid's bike?" Cory asked. He laughed as he pictured Feeny riding a way-too-small bicycle.
…
Cory walked up to George in the history classroom. "Now, I'm really in charge. You're not going to call the bet off if I do things a teensy bit different from the way you would?"
"Isn't that the point of the bet?" Amy pointed out.
"It's Cory. He's probably planning on everybody shooting hoops in class," Jonathan told him.
"I doubt that," Amy responded. "I think Cory's a little more responsible than that."
Cory scratched the back of his neck. "Actually…"
"We made a bet, Mr. Matthews. It's your class. They are your minds to mold."
"Cool!" Cory nodded his head. "Good morning, class. For the rest of the week, I'm gonna be your social studies teacher."
"Poor kids," Katy teased.
"Mr. Feeny? What's going on?" Stuart asked.
"Don't ask me. He's the man in charge," George responded.
"That's right, Minkus, my boy. Me." Cory held spread his arms out and grinned. "I'm your teacher and my name is...Hey...Dude," he said as he wrote the words on the chalkboard. "That alright with you, George?"
Maya laughed before saying, "I will now only refer to you as 'hey dude' in class."
Cory sighed, already imagining his life after all his secrets were revealed.
"Mi clase es su clase."
"My clause is its clause?" Riley translated.
Maya tilted her head slightly to the left. "This is why you're not doing well in Spanish."
"And you guys know that rule about no baseball caps in class? History." Cory put his red hat on as the students responded in approval. Topanga raised her hand. "Yeah, Topanga?"
"If we're going to eliminate the cap rule, can we also discard the dress code in its entirety?"
"Why? You're not thinking about showing up...like, naked tomorrow, are you?"
Maya's eyes widened at the unexpected comment. "Just so I'm not taken off guard, we're not going to see you naked in this, right?"
"No...Well, maybe later on," Topanga replied with a chuckle.
"Oh, boy."
"No. Although I find nothing shameful about nudity. I was thinking about wearing garments from cultures more in tune with the goddess. A sari, perhaps, or a pareo."
"Yeah, fine. As long as you're covered up."
"I think you have a much different opinion on me being naked now," Topanga said with a faint laugh.
Riley cringed, reaching over to cover her ears dramatically, "Ew, gross."
"People, People, People. Are we going to do our Social Studies work today?" Minkus questioned.
"Minkus, Minkus, Minkus. Shut up," Shawn shot back.
Cory was sitting at the teacher's desk with one foot on the desk. "Ok, guys, for homework tonight, uh, read the first thirty pages in whatever that book was that George assigned us yesterday."
"But that was the assignment last night," Stuart reminded him.
"Minkus! Not long ago, I was a student myself, and I remember that sixth-graders don't always do their homework, so this way, everyone gets a second chance."
"Excuse me, Mr. Hey Dude, but I did my homework."
"Minkus, get a life. That's your homework assignment. Get a life."
"Now who has a life, Cory?" Stuart asked with a smug smirk.
"At least my wife isn't terrifying!" He looked at Topanga. "Well, maybe she's a little terrifying."
Shawn questioned, "What? Who married him?"
Cory panicked and answered, "Nobody."
…
Cory ran into the kitchen where his dad was. "I'm the greatest teacher in the history of the universe."
"And still am!" Cory replied, sitting up straighter and tilting his head for the praises. Crickets sounded in the theater as the attention of the theater never left the screen.
"It went that well, huh?"
"By the end of the day, it was one big class party."
"Well, what was Mr. Feeny doing during this party?"
"Shawn was teaching him how to play poker for gum."
Eric glanced at Feeny with a wide grin and said, "Oh, please tell me we get to see that."
"Well, when did you actually teach the lesson?"
"I told you, Dad. The teacher doesn't really do anything. You read the book, you pass the test."
"Did you read the book?"
"I skimmed it."
"Well, what was it about?"
"It was about the Nazis and the Jews...a long time ago. When there was prejudice and stuff."
Farkle shifted in his seat and looked down. Stuart noticed and placed a comforting hand on his son's shoulder, resulting in a thankful smile from Farkle.
"A long time ago."
"Yeah. The stuff is history, Dad."
"Uh, Cory, not that I suddenly think your bike is in like, real significant danger here, but...could you give me the details of this bet again?"
"Ok. Based on the way he grades, if more students than usual pass the test, then I win."
"Based on the way he grades."
"Right."
"Well how does he grade?"
"Huh?"
"Does he grade on a curve?"
"Huh?"
"Feeny's gonna score pretty high, right?"
"He wrote the test."
"Cory, figure it out. He grades on the curve. The higher he scores, the more kids are gonna fail."
"What does that mean?"
"That means your bike is gone."
Maya nodded slowly, not fully following the conversation. "I still have no idea what any of that means, but it sounds like you're going to lose your bike."
"Not if he steps up and actually starts teaching the class," Riley responded. "He's a great teacher now, so maybe he was a great teacher then."
…
"Look, you have to help me get the class back under control," Cory told Shawn.
"Hey, you're the one who let it get out of control."
"Well, you're the one playing poker with Feeny."
"Lighten up, man. You're starting to sound like a teacher."
"I guess I was always destined to be a teacher," Cory chuckled.
Cory walked to his desk as the bell rang. "Uh, Topanga, what are you doing?"
"Moving my desk out of the way. I've decided that I'd rather sit on a traditional yoga cushion."
Cory noticed Stuart moving his desk forward as well. "Oh, come on, Minkus. Don't tell me you want to sit on a yogurt cushion!"
Angela shook her head. "Yogurt? You've got to be kidding me."
"And people," Shawn shot a look at Topanga, "think I'm the dumber one!"
"No. You told me to get a life. Now I'm gonna be as fun as the next guy." He sat on his bouncy ball.
"Ok. I know things got a little loose here yesterday, but we've got a test day after tomorrow, and it's time to get down to business." The class ignored him and continued throwing things around. "Ok, let's start with the roll call. Uh, Lawrence, Topanga."
Stuart sighed. "Oh, dear. It's even worse than I remember."
"I'm channeling," she said as she was in a meditative position. "I will only answer to the name…" She growled.
Riley's eyes were fixated on the screen. She cleared her throat. "Ok. So, Mom was once possessed by a demon. Cool."
Cory stared at her, bewildered. "Ok, present, but not all here. Uh, Hunter, Shawn. Hunter, Shawn!"
"Out of my face. I'm stacking the deck."
"Hey, where's Mr. Feeny? I mean, George."
George walked into the classroom, wearing a baseball outfit. "Hey, dude. Sorry I'm late. I was chillin' with my homies. I'm in," he said as he sat down to play poker.
"Wait, were you trying to act like me?" Cory questioned. "That is not how I acted."
"That is exactly how you acted," George disputed.
"Minkus, this is Social Studies! Stop making those paper turkeys!"
"They're flamingoes, and quit calling me Minkus! You call everyone else by their first name, so start calling me Stuart."
The camera shot back to Feeny. "I see your Juicy Fruit, and I raise you a Chiclet."
Cory sat at his desk with a defeated look.
"I hope you treasured your bike while you had it," Rachel told Cory.
…
Alan walked into the living room. "Still reading that book, huh, Cor?"
"Just trying to prepare for class. You know, this teaching stuff isn't as easy as it looks."
"It's not, huh?"
"Nope. Nobody in class will pay any attention to me."
Maya laughed before saying, "Kind of like your class now, huh?"
"Well, maybe that's because you tried to be their pal instead of their teacher. Maybe you need to set yourself apart from the class, be more authoritative."
"How do I do that?"
"How does Feeny do it?"
"I don't know. I never paid attention."
Eric and a sniffling Linda entered the house. "Come on, let's go sit on the couch, all right?"
"Eric?"
"I got it, Cor." He wrapped his arms around Linda. "Everything is going to be ok, all right?"
"Eric?"
"Look, I'll talk to you later, Cor."
Amy entered through the back door, holding Morgan's hand. "Oh, it's getting chilly out there."
"Linda! Linda!" Morgan shouted as she ran to the girl. She noticed her crying and softened her expression. "What's wrong with Linda?"
"Some jerk at the mall called her a bad name," Eric explained.
Riley took in a sharp breath as she watched the scene with teary eyes. She felt her heart break for the girl. Linda seemed like such a nice girl. How could someone call her a derogatory term?
"Where? Our mall?" Cory questioned.
"What did he call you?" Morgana asked.
She responded, "Oh, it's not important, Morgan."
"In our mall, right here?"
"A boy at my daycare once called me poo-poo head."
"What a jerk," Josh said, lightly laughing.
"Thanks, Morgan."
Eric looked up at Amy. "Mom."
"Come on, Morgan. Let's make some hot cocoa for everybody."
Eric hugged Linda. "Man, some people can be total idiots."
"This happened today?"
...
Cory walked into school, wearing a suit and tie. Shawn took notice of this. "Hey, Mr. GQ. Nice neckwear."
"Excellent Windsor knot. Did your mom tie it?" Stuart asked.
"Minkus...Stuart, I need your help. You're the smartest kid in class, and maybe if you pay attention to me, some of the other kids will."
"Ah, yes, because I was so popular in class," Stuart said with sarcasm.
"Why should I help you? You made fun of Mr. Feeny and said he gets paid too much."
"Hey, dude. Ooh, that suit. It's not cool," George said as he entered.
"Class, I'd like to talk to you today about prejudice and how it still exists in today's world. I didn't even know that till last night when I saw a real smart, totally cool Asian girl, crying her eyes out because some idiot at the mall called her a bad name. My lesson for today is that when people treat other people badly because of their skin color or their religion or where they come from, then real smart, totally cool people can really suffer."
Maya and Riley looked at each other, then at Cory. "Woah…" The girls were surprised by Cory using Linda's story to teach.
"Even then you used other people's life problems to teach a life lesson," Maya commented.
"Hey, George, this isn't gum. These are Rolaids," Shawn complained.
"Deal me out of this one, Mr. Hunter."
"What? Why?"
Cory put his hands up. "Ok. You win. I'm a crummy teacher and I resign." He started walking towards the door but stopped. "Hey, Shawn, before your mother got married, what was her name again?"
"Cordini."
"Cordini. So, that would make you a wop, right?"
Shawn got up from his chair. "What did you call me?"
"Ooh, are you going to hit him?" Maya asked.
Cory looked at the girl with his mouth open. "I don't like how excitedly you said that."
"You heard what I called you."
"Wait, so you didn't realize that prejudice still existed, and yet you knew some Italian slur that I've never heard of?" Katy queried.
Cory replied, "Well, I guess I knew it still existed somewhat. I just thought it wasn't a prevalent thing."
"Did you hear what he called me?"
"I heard what he called you," Feeny replied.
"What are you gonna do about it?"
"He's the teacher. What are you gonna do about it?"
Shawn pushed Cory at the door. "I'm gonna knock his head off!"
"You know, you tried to fight me a lot," Cory pointed out.
Shawn gave him a sheepish smile. "Sorry?"
Cory stopped him. "What if you couldn't? What if you couldn't do anything about it?"
"What?"
"What if you lived in a country where I could kill you just because of your mom's last name?"
"Cory, what are you talking about?"
"A fifteen-year-old girl is dead! Doesn't anybody care?"
"Cory—"
"She was real smart and totally cool. She wrote this book. Her name was Anne Frank. They say she died of Typhus, but they killed her because her name was Anne Frank. Anne Frank was a victim of anti-semeyetism."
Jonathan tilted his head. "Close enough."
"Anti-Semitism," George corrected.
"Thank you, Mr. Feeny. You have to read this book, and you have to pass this test. Not because of me, but because when someone calls someone else a bad name, it's not good that just that one person jumps up. We all have to jump up." He read from the book, "In spite of everything, I still believe that people are really good at heart."
"Still believe that Matthews?" Maya asked.
"I do." Cory replied.
…
"So, what's the verdict? Am I riding the bus to school from now on?"
"No. The same number of students passed the test as usual. It's a draw. You get to keep your bike."
"Good." Cory started to leave but turned. "You mean some people still failed?"
"It happens no matter how good of a teacher you are."
"Sorry to hear that. I guess I didn't do such a good job."
"On the contrary, Mr. Matthews. You did an excellent job. Mr. Hunter, for instance, got a full grade higher than he usually does. Somehow you must have gotten his attention."
Jack smiled and said, "Wow. Shawn got a D?"
"Very funny," Shawn told him, unamused.
"Shawn got a B? At least one guy learned something from me this week."
"Two."
"Two? Who else?"
"You, Mr. Matthews."
"But how do you know? I didn't even take the test."
"You didn't have to. Do you really think that I could've gotten you to read The Diary of Anne Frank?"
"Even if you did, Mr. Feeny, I still wouldn't have understood it without you. People just don't understand that about us teachers."
"That's all right, Mr. Matthews. In time, one learns to live with the lack of respect, unruly students, and minuscule pay. Rolaid?"
…
Eric entered the house. "Hey, Mom. Guess what? This Saturday night I got a date with a cheerleader."
"What happened to Linda? She was so sweet and I was really liking her."
"Ma, Linda is the cheerleader. She made the team."
"Oh, that's great."
"Mhmm. I'm dating a popular girl all because I was smart enough to get in on the ground floor."
"Cheerleading is such a great experience for a girl. You know, I was a cheerleader."
"They had them back then?"
"Yes, back then when the football was made out of a rock. Let's see, my big cheer was...Bo-bo skideeten dooten. Lincoln High, yay! Itten-bitten, ditten-witten. Bo-bo skideeten dooten. Which diddly oten-doten. Bo-bo skideeten dooten. Lincoln High, yay!"
Maya covered her mouth to prevent a snicker. "I see where Riley gets her cheerleading...skills."
"Cute."
"Thank you."
"Dated, unbelievably uncool, but cute." The doorbell rang. "Mom, cheerleading isn't that rah-rah stuff anymore. It's cool, you know. It's, it's cutting edge."
"Hi," Linda said.
"Hi."
Amy walked over to them and hugged Linda. "Hey, congratulations. You made the squad."
"Thanks, I just had my first practice today."
"Why don't you show my mom something you learned, so at least she knows what's going on nowadays?"
"Ok, sure. Bo-bo skideeten dooten. Adams High, yay! Itten-bitten, ditten-witten. Bo-bo skideeten dooten. Which biddly oten-doten. Bo-bo skideeten dooten. Adams High, yay!"
"I guess it's not-so outdated," Alan commented.
Eric nodded and responded, "That doesn't make it good."
"All right! Yeah!" Eric cheered.
"So, what do you think?" she asked him.
"See it's, it's cutting edge."
"Well, that was an interesting episode." Maya turned to her left to see a crying Riley. She raised her eyebrows but ignored it.
Isadora agreed, "I enjoyed seeing you teaching for the first time. Your skills haven't improved."
"Izz, we talked about this," Zay told her.
Riley wiped her eyes. "I think your skills have improved. You're a great teacher, Dad."
"I learned from the best," Cory said, looking at Feeny with an appreciative expression.