fandomhigh | Modeling for Dummies, Thursday 1/7/10

The classroom was empty except for Deadpool's desk. Because this was the beginning of a special journey and chairs only got in the way of it.

...look, if he was gonna be Tyra, he needed to come up with random things the kids couldn't have this time around. For funsies. And to lure in the readers. Hello readers. Are you enjoying the post so far? No? You want more introductions? You're a cruel person.

"So," Deadpool said, ignoring any slurs against those who saw this on their F-list. "Welcome to Modeling for Dummies. In this class, you'll learn the way to succeed in a high pressure situation that wouldn't happen except for on TV, with challenges that have no real bearing on obstacles in your future careers." A beat. "Unless you come from some crazy ass world. Then maybe."

He continued on, trying not to dwell on those insane worlds. Really, it was for the best that he never met Karla.

Magic cock rings.

"So, since everyone has been doing introductions everywhere before this, let's assume I don't care about your names, hopes, dreams or grade. Because that would probably be true. I don't care. But I say that with love. Instead of something that will make ya'll get with the drinking game, I want everyone to pick a classmate and make up some random crap about them that would make them an edgy model. I'll go first!" Oh yeah, this'll end well. "One time, Chuck Bass beat a hobo to death, but then realized the error of his ways and became a priest. It was a touching life lesson that we can all learn from."

One day, people would learn not to allow him to teach. One day.

"Oh, and mini-me. TA. Have fun with the job."

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"If you're strong enough, you'd be able to resist," he replied, smirking.

"The me that has a glue sniffing habit in the first place, obviously isn't," she noted, shrugging. "And that would be mean."

But since that wasn't real, neither was the weakness. Ha.

"The me that is a stalker wouldn't care about mean," he countered.

"Aw, I wasn't good enough to be stalkee?" So sad. About the fake stalking and glue sniffing... Right. "I'm hurt."

"I don't stalk glue sniffers," he said haughtily. "You'd be a bad influence on me."

Angela snickered, nodding a couple times. "Such a sensible stalker," she teased. "Good for you."

"Even stalkers have to have standards," he preened. "And I'm a stalker and a TA. I could technically order you around, couldn't I?"

She raised her eyebrows slightly at that. "And I could technically order you around in cheerleading," she pointed out. "But I don't."

Which sort of implied 'order me around at your peril', but subtler.

"You've been missing opportunities," he said. She'd never tried, after all. And he was a 'ignore all the consequences' kinda guy. "Maybe you should get me a drink. It's tough being a TA."

He just had to try. Just had to.

"... I don't think so." If he'd added a 'please' in there somewhere, she might've done it, but some perceived power? Nooo.

"And if you're not careful, you might just be the one on the floor tonight." She was mostly kidding.

Still not doing it, though.

"I wasn't mean about it," he pointed out. "I didn't snap my fingers or anything. It was a simple request."

"Start snapping fingers and you're definitely on the floor," Angela warned him. Even if it was said with a little amusement, she probably would do it.

Hannibal wasn't that stupid. Even if there was the slightest bit of temptation to see if she'd follow through, he actually didn't want to sleep on the floor.

So, he sat back in his chair and blew her a kiss instead.

Modeling for Dummies, Thursday 1/7/10

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