Madrox. School Board. Thinking. Insanity.

[multi-madrox.livejournal.com]

Today there was no Danger Shop. ONLY ZUUL Only a bunch of craft supplies and a whole lot of socks.

Yes. Socks.

Additionally there was a small puppet stage in the front of the classroom and a smiling Jamie Madrox.

"Is there anything more noble than the theater?" Jamie asked as the students settled down. "Sure. Feeding the poor. Teaching men to fish. Pro wrestling. But does they truly capture the drama that is the theater? No. It doesn't Today we'll be taking our own approach to theater using my favorite medium... the humble sock puppet."

Jamie gestured to the pile of socks and craft supplies. "Today you'll be creating your own sock puppets and then performing your own short skit. While you all prepare your sock puppets, I shall perform my own show for you to learn from."

And with that being said, Jamie reached into his own pocket and pulled out a sock puppet and put it on his hand.

"Hello, old friend," Jamie said with a smile.

"You're an effing moron," the puppet replied. "Where's the brothel with the pigmentally challenged hookers?"

"I've missed you too," Jamie replied. "Let's get started shall we?"

Library, Wednesday [11/9]

[ancientbschamp.livejournal.com]

The last time Gabrielle had written home, she'd asked Xena how much of a pain Joxer had been lately. The letter she got in return, which she'd scrambled over to the desk to read as soon as her morning chores were done, seemed thoroughly confused on the point of who he was. Gabrielle shrugged it off; he must be extra annoying lately if even Xena was taking the "I'm going to pretend you don't exist" tactic. Wow.

The rest of her day's downtime would be spent with the philosophy books again. Someone, it seemed, had a new hobby.

The Art(s) of War and Peace; Wednesday, Second Period [ 11/09 ].

[sake-shinigami.livejournal.com]

When the students came in this week, there was a passage from the eighth P'ien written on the chalk board.

There are roads which must not be followed,
armies which must be not attacked, towns which must
be besieged, positions which must not be contested,
commands of the sovereign which must not be obeyed.

"Sometimes, we must allow the distasteful thing to happen to make way for a greater victory." Ghanima was leaning against the wall, watching them from behind her glowing eyes. "Sacrifices must be made. This is most easily seen in war; sacking an innocent town for supplies, or killing civilians to prevent your position from being discovered. However, it doesn't just apply to war. What do you do when your boss, or 'sovereign,' tells you to lie about something that happened at work? Or if you cannot report a crime, because it implicates someone dear to you? Today, we discuss those choices, and how we know which battles must be fought, and which ones we must let pass us by. Sometimes it is a matter of conscience, while other times is is the one against the many."

"And others still," said Shunsui from behind the desk with very little to add to such a succinct overview, "can simply be a matter of how much sake you have left ♥." His smile was a slight bit sad, though. "Sacrifices aren't easy; that's why they're sacrifices, but there's always something you may end up having to sacrifice eventually. So it can be good to know what you may have to sacrifice in times of war, and how far you may be willing to sacrifice to maintain peace."

"We've broken you into two groups," Ghanima said briskly.

"When you gathered yourselves, we'll give you the scenario on which to discuss," Shunsui added, and his smile gained its usual crookedness, "or politely debate ♥."

[[ so please wait for the OCD has made its choice! ]]

Tricks, Cons and Bamboozles | Wednesday | Period 1

[charming_thief]

Today, entering the Danger Shop, students in Neal's class might be a bit surprised by what they found.

Which was a room set up to look like a police station, complete with uncomfortable reinforced chairs, no open windows, and a box of almost-stale donuts in the corner. Neal went for the classics.

"Hey, guys," he said from over by the appropriately terrible coffee maker, where he was experimentally adding creamer after creamer to the coffee and making no progress on improving it. "So one thing we haven't talked about yet is the reverse of all this stuff, or law enforcement. Not gonna lie to you guys -- this job is not fun. It's a little more interesting if you're FBI and get the good cases, but here it's pretty much redirecting calls and fighting over the last chocolate glazed."

Nice, Neal. Real nice.

"So today for the duration of class, I'd like you all to experience it for yourself. Each of you guys, pick a desk, grab a cup of coffee -- non-negotiable on that last one, by the way, because you should definitely taste this -- and a donut, and sooner or later your phone'll start ringing and you can deal with real police business."

Real police business that he'd programmed into the Danger Shop with cop-resenting glee, thank you very much.

"Ready? Okay, get started."

With that, he gingerly took a sip of his coffee, gagged, and threw it into the garbage can like it was poisonous. Ugh.