How to Be a Really Famous Actor (And Other Acting Tips), Friday, Period 1

[nosefullofsnot.livejournal.com]

As previously announced, Lucas's final was taking place in the school auditorium. To any students who had yet to realize just how into himself Lucas really was, it would probably be a surprise that there was a big projection screen on the stage with Lucas standing in front of it.

"Hey. So, last class. Big deal. I'm sure you've all worked really hard on your final scenes, but I have to admit something. I don't want to grade you on crap like that. I mean, it's going to be at least as painful for me having to sit through it as it would be for you to fail that badly. So what we're going to do instead of having you try to act without a safety net is watch a master at work." Lucas hopped off the stage and started walking toward a seat in the front row.

"The movie is The Game is Over 2. If you haven't seen The Game is Over 1, that's your own fault. You've had a full semester with me. You should have seen all of my movies by now. But you should be able to pick up pretty quickly. It's a movie about a good cop - me - who's finished fooling around... again. And this time, my character, Detective Frank Cooper, is out to bust some drug dealers in New York City, a move that takes him and his partner, played by the great Paul Rapovski, all the way to Hong Kong after the drug dealers kidnap his wife."

"Sit back, relax, and enjoy me," Lucas said before the lights dimmed and the movie started rolling.

Adventures, Capers and Escapes - Danger Shop, Thursday Period 3

[worsethanaunts.livejournal.com]

"I trust you were all well-behaved for Bobby last week," the Doctor said upon greeting his students. "And by well-behaved, I mean you didn't behead him, so that's good. Good. Last class of the semester. You've faced crashing space ships, dinner parties, train heists, dinosaurs - weren't they fun? - hooligans, Ikea furniture and the floor being lava. Those were the highlights, anyway. What did we learn? I don't know. The same thing we always learn, doing the things we do. Look after each other, expect the unexpected, always think twice before destroying something unless it's really important that you do it right now, never run with scissors. I could go on and on but instead I've set the Danger Shop up so you can float through space. It's a flexible piece of technology. I'm surprised more people don't have more fun with it.

But since you're here and I'm a multi-centenarian Time Lord who's travelled far and wide through time and space, and since you've all been pretty good this semester, if you want to stop on your way in and ask me a question or two, I'll probably even give you a reasonably honest answer. Or two. Since we won't be seeing each other again and all. Go on then. Have fun."

How to Be a Proper Sea Dog [Final!]

[cunningkingfish.livejournal.com]

Hook had plans. Oh did he have plans. None of this 'tell me what you learned' nonsense. No, his students would have to do something for his final.

( Obstacle course! )

He waited for a volunteer. This would be a good day.

[ooc: Open and ready for victims! I mean, erm, students.]

Pop Culture 101 | Friday | Period 2

[whitedeathpod.livejournal.com]

It was the last class of the semester and John's last thing to do before heading back home. Needless to say, he didn't intend this to be difficult at all. Pop culture wasn't something to test on, it was something to experience.

"Good morning and welcome back for the last time," John greeted, smiling. "So, today's our last class. You all might be expecting a final but I'm really not one to give them especially in a class like this. Pop culture's something you guys really should just learn to enjoy on your own. Not everyone's going to like the same things and that's what makes it so great. I can like something and you can like something and someone else can like something else and that's all right, it's still cool."

So, with that in mind, John revealed his final exam. "So, I just want you to enjoy pop culture today. I've got some books, some comic books, there's a television, a few computers, some video games, some magazines, whatever. All you have to do is show me that you like something in the pop culture world and you'll pass. I'm not grading hard. Thanks for being a great class and I wish you all luck in the future."

And that, as they say, was that. John clapped and let them get to work.

Student Council | Friday Lunchtime

[suit-of-awesome.livejournal.com]

So it was the last meeting of the Fandom High Student Council of the school year. Barney had decked out the conference room especially for the occasion and had actually brought cigars to share with those of an age. Were there rules about indoor smoking? Bah.

Once they seemed to be mostly there, he brought down the gavel like nobody's business and cleared his throat. "Ah, the final meeting of your student council! Tears all around, we'll pretend we're sad the graduates are leaving, blahblahblah, let's get to the party planning and the pizza consumption, yeah? El presidente here could probably use the help writing his speech if any of you are exceptionally literate."

Because Barney was making that happen, oh yes.

Dealing With Idiots | Friday | Period 4 (Session 15)

[prof_of_cunning]

"There is no final exam," said Edmund, hands clasped behind his back, "Because I don't care enough to write one. You all passed, because I don't care enough to spend the time required to explain to the lovely but utterly terrifying Mrs. Winchester why I failed you. Those of you who survived the previous class without verbal or culinary abuse of the television screen passed with an A; the rest of you got whatever mark Baldrick scribbled beside your name, as an object lesson on the general topic of this class."

Baldrick grinned and waved a red Sharpie in the air. If the red marks on his nose seemed to indicate that half the ink had been inhaled straight up it, would you honestly be able to discern any difference in his behavior to verify your theory?

"That means most of you got off with a B, as it's one of the two letters he actually knows how to write; a few of you landed an S, which you're welcome to tell your parents stands for superlative, if you can pronounce it. Sorry, Wyndam-Pryce--" No, he wasn't. "You appear to have passed with a misshapen sketch of a turnip. Good luck explaining that one."

"For our final class, rather than wasting time and my non-existent limited faith in humanity determining whether you've retained anything I've taught you, we'll touch on one of the few positives to a world full of morons: taking advantage of them. Whether they're as mindless as Baldrick here, or just smart enough to be dangerous because of how smart they think they are, there's always a way to profit from the stupidity around you. Trick them out of their lunch. Trick them out of, more importantly, their money, through wagers, shady sales agreements, and glorious fraud of all sorts. Get them to do what you want them to do by means fair and foul -- you can use what I believe they now call 'reverse psychology' for the stubborn sorts, or, one of my personal favourites, just convince them it was their idea all along, because you're obviously not brilliant enough to have come up with it."

"So. Share one method for profiting from the stupidity around you in your day to day life, and then you're free to flee. This would be where I offer my usual suggestion of getting out now, if the word wrong is lumbering anywhere near the direction of the tip of your tongue, but given you've stuck around this long, it seems a bit superfluous. As for my own example..." It was a very, very nasty grin. "As soon as my bags are packed, I'm off to convince the Prince of Wales that he needs to sleep with two ravishing women in their murderously overprotective uncle's ancestral manor home. I believe the extent of my effort will be making him aware that the ladies in question exist."

[OOC: Oooooopen! He abuses because he loves, Wes. ...No, he doesn't. But he abuses because I love!]

Apathy, Afternoon, Whatever

[onapalebicycle.livejournal.com]

George was late. Because today was one of those days.

"I guess this is our last meeting," she said. "People are leaving. Whatever. There's not a fucking party or anything. You know. Whatever."

She'd said 'whatever' twice. Well. Whatever.