Hmm. Ted isn't here. However, there is a large, hulking man with a strange forehead and only one eye standing at the front of the class in bulky garb. It looks like he's waiting for someone to show up. Better come in, eh?
Mind the food on the table. There are bowls full of Klingon delicacies, such as live
Gagh (squirming serpent worms),
Rokeg blood pie and
blood wine. Yes, the blood wine is alcoholic and very strong. Someone forgot to tell Martok that alcohol wasn't for the kiddies...or they were too scared to tell him.
"Nuqneh, pe'el students," Martok greeted. "I am Martok, head of the house of Martok." He spoke slowly, but with a commanding voice. "I am Klingon and your esteemed teacher, Ted, son of...uh...Captain Logan, invited me here to instruct you in the ways of the Klingon opera. Many outsiders do not appreciate the fine art of the Klingon opera." He leered at the class with his one eye. "Do not fall victim to such weakness. Klingon opera is an art that shows the true strength of the warrior through his voice."
Martok burst into song without warning.
Kak-lah... Kak-lah ...
Kah-pool-AYYY-do-la-kak-lah...
Yoh boo la to dah...
Yoh boo la to da...
Ah... do ro may... do ro may... do ro may...
do ro MAY de lat so may...
Uh clop-doh... uh gah...
Uh clop-doh uh gah dor...
Uh clop-doh... uh gah... dor ray... dor ray... dor raaaaaay."Klingons sing of battle and honor. Any day may be a good day to die, and a warrior must sing with his heart and his soul to show his true worth for when that day comes. Now you may ask questions."