fandomhigh | Practical Applications Period 5 Week 4

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practical applications

Practical Applications Period 5 Week 4

The Danger Shop is now a disturbing color of pink. John fiddles with the controls, trying to make it more manly. Or at least have supermodels on the walls.

He manages to get it gunmetal gray. With this poster. He shrugged. Close enough.

"Hey. Glad you're here. Today? Welding. Next week? Welding. And? Roll cages. Then? Race!"

He briefly describes the purpose of a roll cage and how it ties into the chassis of the vehicle, and briefly outlines how to make a simple chassis and cage out of the available tube or round stock. He shows the proper use of the bender and the adage of measure twice cut once.

"You're balancing safety with weight. You want it light enough that you're not straining the engine, but you don't want to sacrifice safety. These cars won't need a full cage; a simple hoop style will do."

He shows everyone to the big heavy big red heavy welders. "I've got a handout on different welding techniques. Today, you'll practice on this big Lincoln 225. I know I'm throwin' a lot at you, so don't worry much. I'm gonna supervise all your welds on the chassis and cage, and if I'm not happy, you'll do it again until it's right. I got faith in y'all. Just stay safe, don't try to rush it, and it'll be fine."

He's grinning a big boyish grin now. "By the end of next class you should have a pretty good idea on what you want your go-cart to look like, so please submit a ~~handwavey google image~~ plan of your design. I've got wheels and steering here, and I'll have some engine mounts and seats so you can mock up and weld. Okay. Get to work. Grab a mask and jacket.
You will wear protective headgear and leather jackets. Don't think that your thin eyelids will protect you from retinal damage and blindness, no matter what the guys on those bike and custom car shows do."

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Anemone giggled at the piggie mask, but instead attempted to maneuver a pair of the barely-there goggles around her hair. "I just wanted to stop by, since blowing up evil combat robots made me think of you. I think Skywalker woke up on the wrong side of the bed or something, to toss the other students in there like that. Poor kittens. But yeah, is it wrong that I see explody robots and think, 'Oh, I haven't called John yet.' ?"

"I always miss out on the blowing up of evil combat robots. Until I don't miss out, and then things usually end badly. For the robots. And for me. But mostly for robots. How many'd you get, Killer?" He did not snicker. Really. Nuh uh.

"You don't call, you don't write... I hadda tell our kids that you were in jail," he teased.

"Oh no!" Anemone flailed wildly. "Those poor children! I can't believe I left them with you! Have you been feeding them cold ramen again? How ashamed they must be of me! How can we ever go drinking again, with you being so slanderous?! May the angel of margaritas smite you!" She paused momentary and looked over at his students. "Er, should I not be giving them the impression that their teacher is a scoundrel?"

"I was supposed to feeeeeed them?" He flailed, still wearing his mask. "I left 'em the margarita mix, so they shouldn't get scurvy, at least."

"Meh, they're fine. I hope. Only thing I'm worried about is if Naomers figures out how to make hers a hovercart instead of a gocart." He points to the gal with the horns on her forehead. Which are probably covered by the welding mask, but still.

"Angel of margaritas?" He quirked an eyebrow. Which was visible as his mask was flipped up since no one was actively welding at that second.

"Yes, you were supposed to feed them. I don't want the not-children becoming cannibals. Honestly."

Anemone studied the, um, thing that the 'Naomers' was working on. "What if she wants to make a hovercart? You shouldn't restrict the children's creativity. She should be encouraged to go for her dream."

"Well, that'd be bad because it'd be a failure to follow instructions and build a go-cart. And failure to make one for the workshop instructor. And an unfair advantage since the race'll be on sand. Howeverrrrrrr... if she wants to build one, I don't have a problem with it. Just can't use it in the race, then I'd have to explain to Naomi what cheating is and that only the instructor can do it," he said with a wicked grin.

"Not that I cheated on you when you were off doing whatever it was that was morally repugnant and more important to you than our loving and talented children."

"Darling, it's only cheating if I don't know about it." Anemone waved one hand airily. "I wasn't aware that making pie, playing pranks on people, or killing things was morally dubious. I'm sure our talented children will find a way for me to atone."

"I hope so. They've been getting fiendishly clever with popsicle sticks and pipe cleaners. We now have a wooden Bentley. And they used the good pillowcases for the seats and my lawn tractor for the engine." He gets the look in his eyes that means he'd love to build something like that.

"Of course, it's no match for my gocart. Or the bike."

"When they build you a new bike out of soda cans with the engine that runs on hamster power, then I'll start worrying about the little tykes' talents for world domination."

Anemone paused for a moment, and then her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "You know, you didn't call or write either. What will the children think? Refusing to try and contact me! How they must have cried!"

"I tried to call! That hussy who calls herself your secretary said you were tied up! Then she said itwas all top secret! And they didn't cry. Much. Mostly because they'd found that leftover glowy crap and built a hoverboard. Which? Awesome. And now we need the back of the house re-bricked." He grinned, thinking how awesome it'd be for a hoverboard.

"You didn't let them eat the glowy stuff, did you? I told you it gives them strange ideas. And a third head. Wait, a hoverboard? You mean the kids actually built a refboard? What's it running on? Did you let them reverse engineer mine? I told you, they can't play with my toys!"

"No, of course not; they're smart enough to not put glowy stuff in their mouths. Jessa tried to flush some, and now the upstairs bathroom no longer needs a nightlight." He nearly cackled thinking how awesome that'd be.

"Hoverboard. Board what hovers. Running on glowy stuff. And I haven't touched any of your stuff since I packed it in the spare room and padlocked the door!"

That's it. Anemone broke character, laughing hysterically. "So, how many of these not-children are there, and have you named them all yet? Just curious."

"How dare you forget Jessa, Bo-Bob, NotThat!, Merle, Alexanderiairednaxela, JJ, SeaSponge, Sprocket, Agatha, and the five we haven't named yet and just call The Quints," he said, before smirking. Okay, laughing. A lot.

"It's not my fault that you reproduce by budding! Every time you stub your toe, there's another rugrat!"

Anemone shrieked in indignation. "I do not! I already told you, I am not a plant OR a sea creature! I am named after a flower, I am not an actual flower!" She swatted at him ineffectually. "I swear, you bring those children home from your various liaisons, and try to pass them off as mine when I wake up. 'Look hon, you sprouted again!' I. Am. Not. A. Plant!!!"

"Geez. Calm down, you'll get yer petals all in a bunch." A look of horror came across his face, and he dropped the mask to protect himself. "You haven't been pollinated again, have you?!"

He flailed back at her. Ooochickfight! "Just cuz I'm an actual Connor and not just named after one doesn't mean you get to be all jealous! And not sleep in the bed we made. I got married so I wouldn't have to sleep alone!"

"Wait we got married? When?" Anemone stopped flailing and eyed him suspiciously. "Did you put something in my tea again? The only person in my bed at night is me. And Gulliver."

"You've been cheating on me with Gulliver?! Oh, the shaaaame!" He stopped the hysterics. "Who's Gulliver? And of course I put something in your tea. You're so much more pleasant to be around when it's a sedative, and so much more fun happens when it's a stimulant," he cackles. "Actually... I should figure out a way to make a sedative tea. I'm sure it'd help out some of the students. As long as you don't spike my tea."

"No, I've been cheating on you with my boyfriend Dominic," she said matter-of-factly. "Gulliver is Gulliver. I would never spike your tea. Tea is sacred. I will, however, spike your alcohol with more alcohol. Possibly also with a tiny little paper umbrella."

She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Our new principal seems a bit stressed out. I don't think the school board properly, ah, prepared her for Fandom. Perhaps some of that special sedative tea would be a nice gift for her."

"That's not a bad idea, give her tea. I've not met her, but she seems to be rankling the wrong people and ruffling feathers and fur that's best not touched. And I can't believe you're married to me and dating Dominic. I'll need more of my alcohol-spiked alcohol with umbrellas," he said, mooostly seriously. "Oh, crap! I gotta get back to the church, see if I can rig up the still again."

"I was dating Dominic before I was 'married' to you, so don't get so huffy. If anything, he's the wronged party. Wait, you have a still. In a church. You blow things up and make booze on a holy site. To think, I left you alone with the children! What kind of authority figure are you?"

"Hey, just because I was dating a nun and making booze in the basement of a church doesn't mean I'm a bad authority figure! An' the fact that the kids are still alive proves that I'm better at it than you. You sold Billie-Jean. Twice!"

He gets a bit morose. "I miss her."

"Of course I sold Billie-Jean, she's worth the most. That makes me a good authority figure, I'm not just doing things haphazardly. There's a method to my madness. If you miss her, you could just buy her back. Or do you mean the nun? I don't know what a nun is, but I'm sorry if you miss her."

"The nun," he said. He shook his head slightly to snap himself out of it. "Sorry. I miss the nun. Not so much Billie-Jean. She's the loudest. Takes after her mom too much. She turned my lawn mower and the TV into a robot!"

"I really don't get your anti-robot bias! I understand not liking evil killer robots, but not all mecha lack a moral center. Billie-Jean built a cute little robot, and it was completely harmless. I might remind you that she gets the urge to make strange creations from you, so you need to take some responsibility for her actions." Anemone grinned. It felt good to just be random with someone, and not have them think she was completely bonkers.

Well, John might think she was a little nutty, but he didn't seem to mind.

"Do you want the silly answer or the serious answer for the robot thing? Cuz... crap. Now I've got that damn Billie Jean song in my head, wondering why our children obviously take after you, and missing Wee Tiny Weekend. I need chocolate." He lifted the mask and gave her a small smile.

John? Say someone's nutty? Perish the thought. Ooh, look, here comes the kettle. I, as pot, must say something.

"What is a wee-tiny weekend? Is this another one of those stories, like Graduation? The ones I'm supposed to be drinking for?"

Anemone caught the little smile, and smiled back softly. "I don't have chocolate. Monday is my pie class, I could bring some pie by then if you'd like, and then you can tell me all about these strange events at Fandom."

"Monday with pie will work. I'm also available any other time. Please make an appointment with my secretary and bring offerings of food. And margaritas," he said with a snicker.

"Wee Tiny Weekend is a weekend--two, actually--where the students turned wee. Like, 5. And then the adults turned like 5 about six months later. And there was much WTFing. Not as much as when everyone's kids showed up."

"Cute. Do you alumni actually sit around and come up with this stuff just to freak out the new kids?" Anemone shook her head. "There's things known as the laws of physics. Admittedly, they're more suggestions than laws, and half of them are actually distortions, but they're still there. If everyone suddenly became midgets, where did all the mass go? Poof?" She grinned and tsked at him sadly. "The future-kids story is totally possible, since we've both got first-hand experience with the mess that is time travel, but wee? Seriously?"

"Wee. Seriously. Like I know physics. Or how tissue can cross time but metal can't? Cuz that makes sense. And how did that giant thermometer get here if it's not flesh and now my head hurts."

"I miss my future son. He's like the best and worst of me. And Rosette. And all badass. Just wait until you've been here long enough to see Jello monsters, pies raining from the skies, and Muppet talking frogs."

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Practical Applications Period 5 Week 4

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