Dice and Danger! [Thurs, 2nd Period]

[wrongkindofsith]

Cara had a sheaf of stained paper that smelled very strongly of rum with her today. "Vicious mockery," she said. "Apparently bards get the best spells."

"How is that a spell?" Jane asked, frowning at her book on the matter. "That just seems mean."

"It makes your words do more than hurt their feelings." Just because Cara hadn't tortured anyone in years...because it was wrong, didn't mean she couldn't see the applications there.

"Apparently it causes psychic damage," Jane added, still frowning. Because that was just too spot on, WotC. And rude. "We thought it would be a good spell for you all to try out, but now I'm a little worried."

"That's what these are for," Cara said, waving the paper. "Since you still have to live with each other, I raided the radio archives, barely anyone mentioned in these is still on the island, and those of us who have should have thicker skins by now."

Somewhere... Anakin was worried.

"Well, I guess that works..." Take it and run, Cara. She was weak!

"Everyone take a random page of notes, and see what you can come up with." Was Cara giving away her radio process here? Maybe.

So You Want to Be a Detective; Friday, First Period [04/19].

[died8yearsago]

"Two things today," said Rosa, sitting at the front of the classroom with her feet up on the desk with what was going to be a tell-tale sign that class was going to be pretty light today and she was fine with keeping it that way, it was the end of the semester and she was already kind of over it. "First, the Mystery of the Week is you all trying to put your big detective brains together and see if you can predict which students get onto the Prom Court tonight. Jot your answers down with your name and put them in this hat, and, if anyone guesses it correctly, you'll get a prize next week.

"And the other thing," she said, "is about next week, which is our final class, and I should give you guys a final project or something. So I want you guys to come up with a mystery and see if me and your fellow classmates can't solve it. You want it to be challenging, but not obtuse. Intriguing, but not impossible. Got it? Let me know if you have questions. Otherwise, make your guesses for Prom Court and start brainstorming on your mysteries."

Feeding Yourself 101, Friday Second Period

[carbsliftthespirit]

"We've run out of time to explore the wonderful world of desserts," Raiden told his students, "and for that I am very sorry. But there's always time for cookies! Chocolate chip cookies, to be exact, and today I'm going to tell you my secret recipe, which is just to follow the recipe on the back of the bag. Perfection doesn't need to be tweaked. If you don't like chocolate, then I don't know what to do with you, but maybe you're an oatmeal raisin kind of person!" Someone had to be. "The choice is yours. Now, we're gonna start with creaming the butter..."

Beaker No!/Beaker Yes! [Friday 4/19, 3rd Period]

[but_mostly_america]

Today was the last class before exams AND no one had been horribly maimed so far this semester! As far as the teachers knew! It was time to celebrate, right?

Wrong! Sam Eagle would not stand for premature celebrations! “Today,” he said, “in preparation for whatever horrors Beaker may inflict upon us next week for your final exam, we shall be learning about fire safety! It is my hope that you all survive said exam!”

Beaker was not listening to Sam! He was too busy getting the herd? Gaggle? Committee? of Muppet chickens into the Danger Shop. They looked very snazzy in their fire hats, didn't they?

“I do not recall requesting chickens,” the eagle groused. “I requested firefighters!”

"Meep meep meep!" Beaker said as fire hoses unfurled dramatically from the ceiling. Of course there was going to be a final song and dance number, Sam. Have you ever Muppet-ed?

Sam had been Muppet-ing for decades, how very dare! “This is no way to learn anything! This is all frivolous nonsense!” Especially the chicken kick line.

They'd worked hard on those kicks, Sam! "Meep meep meep meep!" Beaker countered, wheeling in a cannon big enough to launch a chicken from.

“Who gave you a cannon” Sam demanded. “This is an outrage! Extremely unsafe! Very weird! Inappropriate!”

He was drowned out by cannon fire. Because it was funny that way.