Game of Chance, Monday

[suitably_heroic]

"Today, we're getting into the nitty-gritty of calculating odds," Atton said. "None of that gut feeling stuff here. We're going to be talking percentages." He walked from table to table, putting down handouts of... sums.

Yep, kids. You were getting an actual math class.

"The thing about odds is that the math doesn't always work as you expect it to," he said. "If you flip a coin once, what's the chance you'll get heads? 50 percent. If you flip it ten times, what's the chance you'll get heads? Still 50 percent. Even if you flip it heads seven times in a row, the chance for the next toss is still 50 percent, because it could be one or the other."

He sat back down behind his desk.

"Percentages are always out of 100," he said, "Which means you can also write them down as fractions of 1. A chance of 0.2 out of 1 is the same as a 20 percent chance. So an easy way to calculate chance is to add up to one hundred. What's the percentage chance if you're talking 7 out of 25? Well, 25 times four adds up to 100, so seven times four - 28 percent."

He shrugged. "It's that easy," he said. "Now get to work."

Sex Ed, Tuesday, First Period

[stickitupmyjinx]

"Today," Vanessa began, "Citizens of the United States will vote for our next president between a highly qualified woman and an orange sack of hair who once said he likes to nonconsensually "grab women by the pussy." Which in this case is a vulgar slang term for the vagina, and does not refer to a cat. So, three things I want to say, and then you're all dismissed so I can go vote and then get very drunk: first, again, consent is very important. Second, if you ever consensually grab someone by the pussy, please be careful and gentle, because that sounds extremely painful. Third, I expect better dirty talk than that from all of you. Oh, one more thing: if you live in a democracy and have the right, vote! Class dismissed."

Shop, Tuesday, period 3

[vdistinctive]

An email had handwavily gone out to the students to meet in town instead of the Danger Shop today. When they arrived in the abandoned warehouse district, they'd find Eliot wearing a hard hat and safety goggles, an air filter down around his neck ready to be fitted over his nose and mouth, and a sledgehammer slung over his shoulder.

"Right, so today's kind of a stressful day for some folks whose home version of Earth has an election going on." Like Eliot, for instance. "And frankly, I'm sure the rest of you guys have at least something you'd like to work your frustrations out over, so instead of making something today, we're going to tear shit down." He gestured to the warehouse behind him. "Specifically, we're gonna gut this bitch. We got sledgehammers, crowbars, and about a metric ton of safety gear, since this ain't a simulation." Tearing up simulated walls just wasn't the same. "I've checked to make sure there's no electricity or water to worry about busting into in here, but there is insulation, which you do not want to get next to your skin or in your respiratory tract, so everyone's wearing gloves, goggles, and a breathing mask along with the hard hats. You really wanna make some noise and tear shit up, I've got a few chainsaws in here, too. Only rules are don't aim any swings at your fellow students, stay where at least one other person can see ya, and anything I marked with a big blue B is load-bearing, so don't mess with it." B was for blue, just in case anyone was color blind and hadn't told him. "Oh, and you make yourself or any of your classmates bleed, you fail the entire semester. Now go nuts."