fandomhigh | Keeping Your Wits About You... [Monday 2nd Period 10-11] Class # 15 The Final

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Keeping Your Wits About You... [Monday 2nd Period 10-11] Class # 15 The Final

Wilson stood waiting for his class to file in as per usual on a Monday morning. There was an extra special spread of holiday cookies and other treats laid out for the kids and Wilson himself wore a bit of a melancholy smile as he sipped his coffee and watched.

As soon as everyone was in and settled, he started the final class.

"Well guys, it's that time. Final class of the term. I just want to say what a wonderful time I've had teaching you all and getting to first hand witness some of the amazingly creative ways you've all come up with for coping with what I've thrown at you this semester. It's been a lot of fun."

Straightening, he walked over to the chalk board and began to write.

"Here is your final scenario. You have blue books at your desk, please write me up an essay on how you would cope with the following scenario."

The Vending Machine ate my lunch!

[ooc: OCDs ~~on the way~~ are up!]

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Have some holiday treats!

For your gossipy needs.

Handwavey if you wish or amuse me with the crack!

He is here!

*GLOMPS YOU ALL!!*

It was awesome fun getting to RP with all of you this semester! I had a blast with this class and I'm going to miss you guys!

Lana Lang

Lana ~~handwavily~~ wrote a wonderful essay about how she saved her lunch.

Johnny grabbed a cup of hot chocolate and a Christmas cookie before he took his seat.

Chris was happy to help himself to treats before taking his seat.

Chris had studied all weekend and felt pretty confident about the final.

Chris wrote a wonderful ~~handwavy~~ essay.

Beauty Huston

Johnny wrote up his paper. Surprisingly, it didn't take him very long.

First I’m gonna have to cuss at the freaking machine. I mean, dude, I stick in my money and don’t get Jack all for it? Hell no. So I stick in another bill, thinking the thing might be jammed. Hell no! Stole my freaking money again!

I’m kind of getting pissed now and kick the damn machine cause it feels freaking good to do so (not because I‘m 12 or anything). I could torch the son of a bitch but then I risk melting my lunch and yeah, not good. That’s why I’m here right? To get my lunch cause I’m freaking hungry.

I yell for my girlfriend to come and try it and allow her to waste a buck or two before I realize that yeah, the freaking steel box is a defect and it’s not going to give me my lunch. Dammit. Doesn’t matter that it gave five people before me their yummy goodies. The damn thing is screwed up and I want my freaking money back. Or my lunch. Whichever I can get first.

My girlfriend leaves at my gentle insisting cause from here on out, things just weren’t going to be pretty with this stupid vending box from hell. I decided -that- in the 2.3 seconds it took to get my girlfriend to safety.

I then proceed to kick the machine again. Then again. Nothing. I rock the sucker back and forth, trying to dislodge my lunch cause man, I’m freaking starving now. Nothing. Stupid piece of sh-- Anyway… did I mention I was starving? Like the worst sort of starving ever. It’s like you see your food but you just can’t get it! It’s like having a freaking huge head with little arms. Know what I mean?

I get a touch carried away and suddenly the machine is smoking. Okay, it’s worse than smoking. I torched the son of a bitch and everything in it. Now nobody can have anything. Wouldn’t be fair right? For them to get their treat when I couldn’t have mine? That sucks, man. So it’s a fiery, melting mess.

I didn’t do it. I hightail my ass outta there.

Screw my job, screw everything! I’m going to Burger King.

Jamie snuck in right after class. "Dr. Wilson? I have a personal problem that I was wondering you could help me with."

As it was Jamie, Wilson wasn't sure whether to be intrigued or frightened.

Or both.

Still, he smiled warmly, because it was Jamie and leaned against the desk.

"Of course, Jamie. What do you need?"

Hoshi Sato, who was grabbed a cookie before taking her seat.

"I have..."

Jamie looked around to see if there was anyone else around and then continued quietly.

"I have a really bad case of earwax. Do you have a q-tip on you. And it has to be a Q-tip. Not an offbrand that has those plastic stem things."

Hoshi wrote her essay.

By the mid-twenty-second century, humans on Earth will no longer use currency and the vending machine's goodies would be free for all to enjoy. So, if the vending machine ate my lunch, I would ~~get my friend Trip Tucker to~~ hack into its systems convert it into a futuristic protein re-sequencer that would distribute free merchandise on demand.

Wilson shuddered delicately.

"I hate those damn plastic stems. You can never get a good hold on them, your fingers slid and then they bend and the Q-tip just never reaches that happy spot in your ear." He agreed.

Straightening, he walked behind the desk and picked up his soft sided briefcase. Reaching within, he pulled out a small medkit that he carried with him and dug around until he found that universally recognized blue box with the white writing.

Poking the one end so the other pushed out, he presented Jamie with the neat little rows of Q-tippy goodness.

"You sir... are a God. And not like that fake one who does fashion shows."

Jamie inserted the q-tip in his ear and make a face that one does when you have an "eargasm".

Wyatt Halliwell

Mmm, cookies.

I'd just call it to me and orb it out of the machine.

After taking a look at the essay question, Wyatt had to ask, "Is there a word minimum?"

*CLINGS*

Isabel Evans

Candy Canes are tasty!

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Keeping Your Wits About You... [Monday 2nd Period 10-11] Class # 15 The Final

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Before the Test - AKA Talk amongst yourselves!

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