fandomhigh | HOW TO BE A COMPLETE BITCH WITHOUT TRYING, Workshop 6, Period 2 (Monday, August 11)

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HOW TO BE A COMPLETE BITCH WITHOUT TRYING, Workshop 6, Period 2 (Monday, August 11)

This week, Tink was seated on the rim of a martini glass, rather lazily smoking a cigarette. One placed in a very chic elongated cigarette holder. And by "lazily" she meant "oh so very stylishly," because as much as those boring PSAs tried to say otherwise, children, everyone knew that smoking looked very, very cool. You could look thoughtful, and exhale the smoke slooowly. You could gesture emphatically with the cigarette, or stub the butt for emphasis. They were tiny portable accessories filled with nicotine! Tink felt fabulous already!

Jean-Paul lounged against the desk, also smoking a cigarette. He looked very French. Of course. He also looked like he didn't care if he was giving the rest of the class lung cancer, because this was bitch class, not health. Really, what did they expect by now?

The French never cared about other people's problems, and that was why they were such natural bitches. Tink approved. And today's class was about an important aspect of being bitchy: remembering that cool far, far outrated stupid considerations like "healthy," "safe" and "legal." Weren't those words boring? Tink was falling asleep already! Who wanted to have healthy, safe legal fun? That person was probably the nerdy kid with headgear who ratted on you for that drunken basement party you threw when your parents were out of town. That nerdy kid, children, would never, ever get laid. Or be cool. Ever.

"Indeed," Jean-Paul agreed. "Which is why today's lesson is about things that are bad for you--and, perhaps, others--but look cool, and so you should do them anyway, and to hell with everyone else and your health. Who wants to live to be eighty anyway?"

Promiscuity, for example! Boring people liked to talk about diseases and babies and losers who didn't get the clue on the "one-night" part of "one-night-stand" and kept texting you, ugh. But why look at the lame, stupid side effects? It was promiscuity. If you let diseases and babies and clingy idiots keep you from having hot, delicious sex with lots and lots of partners, then maybe you deserved to keep your virginity.

"Or you could do the sensible thing and be homosexual, cutting the babies concern out of the picture. No one wants a squalling infant, children. Those who say they do, lie." If there were shadows in Professor Beaubier's eyes there, the sane thing to do would be ignore them. "Sometimes there will even be rules and regulations and laws about things that look cool. Like smoking! You cannot smoke under a certain age; you cannot smoke in a certain place. These are, of course, silly, silly laws designed to keep you down and make everyone look like a nerd."

Laws were so bourgeoisie. They tried to tell you what you could smoke. Cloves and tobacco, those were fine, but pot and crack? Why, those were never allowed! Legislators had to be the most joyless people ever. Not that Tink was advocating that young people use illegal drugs. Not even a mild cocaine habit to keep their weight down, or some ecstasy at a rave if you brought along a pacifier and Vicks Vapo-Rub. Tink wanted to be very clear, here, as she was a inspirational role model to young people and advocating illegal drug use could get her fired.

Jean-Paul blinked at the pixie for a moment, wondering if she would get away with that, before he rallied and said, "Yes, some laws are very silly. Like speeding laws! Why would anyone ever want to go fifty-five miles per hour, I ask of you. It is practically standing still! I can go faster than that on foot!" Jean-Paul could go faster than the speed of sound. But never mind that.

Going fifty-five miles an hour in a sports car was a sin against the car, the roads, and everything bitchiness stood for. Anyone who followed traffic laws in a sexy little car should be dragged out of the car and slapped, and the car given to someone who would appreciate it. Such as Tink. Tink liked to go very fast indeed. And really, red lights were just suggestions, and Tink didn't take kindly to that sort of thing. Excuse her, she was trying to drive here?

"Do not tell that to the officer who pulls you over, though," Jean-Paul suggested. "Getting arrested for a speeding ticket, while bitchy, is very un-chic."

So class! Today they were going to discuss their very favorite things which were bad for you but cool, and whether being bad for you made it even cooler. (Which it usually did.) And they had an assignment! Sometime this week, do something very, very bad for yourself but extremely cool. And children, if they couldn't think of anything like that, ask their teachers or their fabulous TA, so that Tink and Jean-Paul or Chuck could have a very thorough laugh in their faces.

"And after we are done laughing, we will help you. Because we are being paid or graded to, not out of the kindness of our hearts. Have you not yet learned that we do not have hearts? That is the point."

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With a cool-looking vice.

Chuck Bass

~~Warren~~ Logan Peace

Cimorene

Agnes Nitt

Liir Thropp

Lee Adama

Toby

Ron Weasley

~~Ronan Nolan~~ Randy Miller

Discuss how Tink and Jean-Paul are, ultimately, bad for you, but so very cool.

Agnes watched them smoke and was disgusted to realize that they DID, in fact, look really, really cool. Cigarettes -- or, at least, THOSE cigarettes and not normal hand-rolled ratty dogends -- were pretty much the DEFINITION of cool. Certainly better than foul-smelling pipe Nanny favored, anyway.

He thought of the cigarettes the soldiers would smoke... and he'd always thought they'd smelled good, mostly. He hadn't thought they were cool.

...and when Elphaba had pointed out what it did to the lungs, he'd thought it less cool even though it was probably very soothing.

Toby missed smoking and inhaled deeply, hoping to catch a few extra whiffs of nicotine.

What is your favorite activity or state of being which is bad for you in some way, and yet cool? Please do not pick something which is not actually bad for you, or Tink and Jean-Paul might die of mocking you.

Warren considered. Slightly.

"Beating people up." It seemed like a vice. Or something. To Warren, at least.

There! That was a very nice answer. Beating people up was rather bitchy, and incredibly cool. It also helped you get a reputation. Her suggestion was to move over to hissyfit tantrums. Throw someone into a wall for bringing you the wrong flavor of latte, and then sulk for a few hours that no one cares enough to get it right the first time. Bitchiness was so easy! And fun!

Agnes sighed.

"Well, there's always dressing all in black, thinking you're better than everyone else, giving yourselves stupid new names, and toying with supernatural forces you don't understand. That's pretty cool."

It was, too. Being responsible is so much less fun.

Tink had to consider the individual points of that. Well. Dressing in black was most certainly cool, though she herself felt that missing out on green and red were just a shame.

Thinking you were better than everyone else was prime bitch territory.

Toying with supernatural forces was horribly cool, more so for the likelihood of things going terribly wrong.

So Tink's question was, how stupid were the new names?

Of course Ms. Bell would think that nearly helping an evil entity take over the world was cool. Of COURSE she would.

Agnes knew better now, of course, and knew it was better to hang with the NOT-cool crowd, who dressed all in black, thought they were better than everyone else, kept their stupid old names, and toyed with supernatural forces they mostly understood. SO much better.

Agnes sighed, tried to think of the best name from the coven, and then hoped Violet would forgive her. "Magenta," she sneered.

"I don't have anything.

"And I don't really care what you say."

Trying out the baby rebellious thing was all very well and good, but not in class. Tink and Jean-Paul were masters, and he was just an amateur.

He snorted, lifted his chin, crossed his arms and settled quite comfortably in his seat.

Better. She rated that a B-minus.

"Drinking," Lee said. The raven on his desk pecked his hand. "Ow! Just drinking despite what someone else might want me to say."

Tink was going to give the boy with the nice arms a strange look.

Did he keep around an evil raven? Was this some new masochistic kink she hadn't heard about yet?

"It's my girlfriend," he explained. "She's a bird this week."

Edited 2008-08-11 20:28 (UTC)

Toby was shirtless and confused. "I don't do anything bad for me. I'm very healthy." Unless you count the sex with random strangers. But that was fun, not bad.

He was! He was very, very healthy and so he got a gold star for the day. Wasn't that special? He should celebrate by chewing on his own bicep. Stand up so everyone could see!

Still confused, Toby stood and made a muscle easily. "Okay, but my arms are nowhere near as awesome as Lee's."

"Quidditch," Ron said leaning back in his chair. "Completely dangerous if you don't know what you're doing. Even if you do know what you're doing."

Their vices are cooler than yours.

Seely figured it would be a good idea to keep Aravis from getting into trouble for skipping class, so he came by near the end of class. "Uh, professors?"

Aravis contented herself with curling around his legs and pretending that Tink and Jean-Paul didn't exist.

Yes? Yes! She was a professor! They paid her to be one, and she taught young people all sorts of sexy things about being cool and having sex and using drugs. Not the illegal ones, in case he was wondering, because she would get fired for that and that was very wrong.

Did he want something? And why did he bring a leopard?

"I thought you should know why Aravis couldn't make it to class today," Seely said, pointing down at Aravis, who was still ignoring them as only a feline could.

"And that would be...why?" Jean-Paul wanted to know. "Did the cat eat her?"

"More like she is the cat."

Tink would need a moment to very solemnly express her sympathy for Aravis' fate.

Aravis started eyeing Tink with something resembling interest. After all, you couldn't possibly blame a cat for being interested in chasing bright, shiny things with wings.

He's very bad for you. That's why he's the TA.

Chuck looked a little tired after being a kitten for the last couple of days but he was there and mostly awake.

RPG addiction counts, right?

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HOW TO BE A COMPLETE BITCH WITHOUT TRYING, Workshop 6, Period 2 (Monday, August 11)

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