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fandomhigh2009-04-07 12:39 am
baskiceball.livejournal.com) wrote in fandomhigh2009-04-07 12:39 am
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Food Appreciation [Class Thirteen, Period #3]
Marshall had been bitten by a gremlin this morning. If it wasn't obvious from the strongly worded (and completely in capslock) e-mail to his students informing them to get their pansy asses to the Danger Shop for class today or else suffer the brutal consequences, it'll be obvious once they got to class.
Those not scared off by the e-mail would find that the Danger Shop had been turned into a gym of sorts. There were punching bags, a boxing ring and the setup for that Joust game you saw on American Gladiators. They would also see more of Marshall than they ever, ever wanted to see.
"HELLO, PANSIES!" Marshall yelled, his voice sounding deeper and more growly than usual. "IIIIIIIIIT'S WRESTLEMANIA 2009! I AM YOUR HOST MARSHALL "THE MADMAN" ERIKSEN!"
Pshyeah, Marshall wished people called him The Madman.
"TODAY WE'RE GOING TO SEE WHAT YOU'RE REALLY MADE OF," he said, still yelling. Oh, look, he was flexing too. Very impressive. "MY BET IS THAT ALL YOU WUSSIES ARE MADE OF JELLO. DELICIOUS JELLO."
Oh god, now he was craving Jello. Maybe after class.
"EITHER FIGHT A PUNCHING BAG, TAKE IT TO THE RING OR KNOCK EACH OTHER IN THE HEAD WITH PUNGIE STICKS!" Marshall said, gesturing to the area behind him. "WHETHER YOU WIN OR LOSE, REMEMBER THIS--I CAN KICK YOUR ASS."
Right.
Marshall rung a bell. "WELCOME TO THUNDERDOME, BITCH. GET FIGHTING!"
Those not scared off by the e-mail would find that the Danger Shop had been turned into a gym of sorts. There were punching bags, a boxing ring and the setup for that Joust game you saw on American Gladiators. They would also see more of Marshall than they ever, ever wanted to see.
"HELLO, PANSIES!" Marshall yelled, his voice sounding deeper and more growly than usual. "IIIIIIIIIT'S WRESTLEMANIA 2009! I AM YOUR HOST MARSHALL "THE MADMAN" ERIKSEN!"
Pshyeah, Marshall wished people called him The Madman.
"TODAY WE'RE GOING TO SEE WHAT YOU'RE REALLY MADE OF," he said, still yelling. Oh, look, he was flexing too. Very impressive. "MY BET IS THAT ALL YOU WUSSIES ARE MADE OF JELLO. DELICIOUS JELLO."
Oh god, now he was craving Jello. Maybe after class.
"EITHER FIGHT A PUNCHING BAG, TAKE IT TO THE RING OR KNOCK EACH OTHER IN THE HEAD WITH PUNGIE STICKS!" Marshall said, gesturing to the area behind him. "WHETHER YOU WIN OR LOSE, REMEMBER THIS--I CAN KICK YOUR ASS."
Right.
Marshall rung a bell. "WELCOME TO THUNDERDOME, BITCH. GET FIGHTING!"
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