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fandomhigh2011-01-14 11:06 am
prof_of_cunning) wrote in fandomhigh2011-01-14 11:06 am
Entry tags:
Dealing With Idiots | Friday | Period 4 (Session 2)
Once again, Edmund stood at the head of the class with accompaniment of the odoriferous variety - though today, Baldrick had a tree-shaped, pine-scented air freshener dangling from the front corner of his tricorn hat. It cut the smell a bit, though it did result in a cross-eyed Baldrick.
"Remember when I said he wouldn't be here for every class? I didn't mean this one," Edmund said with perhaps the tiniest hint of apology in his tone. "If you wish to move your things to a seat that's further upwind, please do so."
"Now, to the topic at hand: before you can decide how best to bear the presence of the terminally melon-headed, you're going to have to identify them." He pointed at Baldrick, currently batting at his dangling pine-tree like a brain-damaged cat. (Or, frankly, any other cat, but only a brain-damaged one would allow itself to smell like that.) "I don't mean recognizing their presence. Aside from a few stealth-sorts, you're not going to miss them when they're standing in front of you unless you're one of them; if you haven't figured out that Baldrick is one, for instance, get out."
His hopes had been raised a bit by the last class, but Edmund still paused in case anyone chose to flee the room, then continued. "By identifying them, I mean classing them into various types, so you can choose the correct reaction. We'll start with the simplest."
Turning to the chalkboard behind him, he wrote out in clear, if rather fancy, lettering: Idiots You Don't Have To Be Nice To. Then he turned back to the class.
"These are the people with whom you don't need to hold back your scorn and annoyance. You'll never see them again. You don't need anything from them except, perhaps, their absence. They work for you. They've already established that they don't like you, so you might as well let fly. They're deaf, senile, or so profoundly stupid that they won't understand that they're being insulted, or at least won't remember it tomorrow morning. They're Baldrick -- which I realize is a bit redundant given the previous sentence, but the magnificence of his dullarditude puts him into a category all his own."
"Thank you, sir; unusually kind of you to say."
"Think nothing of it - also a redundant statement." To the class, Edmund said, "These are just a few broad sub-groups. Your assignment today, especially those of you from societies quite different to the 18th Century wherein my expertise lies, is to come up with specific examples that relate to your own time, place, and personal experience. Feel free to expand on each other's descriptions, or point out pitfalls under which one might, sadly, have to pretend the person described isn't a complete gitface."
[OOC: 1) Yes, he's a terrible person, and proceeds on the hopeful assumption that you are too. 2) No, he's never going to stop abusing Baldrick. 3) OCD is up; have at it!]
"Remember when I said he wouldn't be here for every class? I didn't mean this one," Edmund said with perhaps the tiniest hint of apology in his tone. "If you wish to move your things to a seat that's further upwind, please do so."
"Now, to the topic at hand: before you can decide how best to bear the presence of the terminally melon-headed, you're going to have to identify them." He pointed at Baldrick, currently batting at his dangling pine-tree like a brain-damaged cat. (Or, frankly, any other cat, but only a brain-damaged one would allow itself to smell like that.) "I don't mean recognizing their presence. Aside from a few stealth-sorts, you're not going to miss them when they're standing in front of you unless you're one of them; if you haven't figured out that Baldrick is one, for instance, get out."
His hopes had been raised a bit by the last class, but Edmund still paused in case anyone chose to flee the room, then continued. "By identifying them, I mean classing them into various types, so you can choose the correct reaction. We'll start with the simplest."
Turning to the chalkboard behind him, he wrote out in clear, if rather fancy, lettering: Idiots You Don't Have To Be Nice To. Then he turned back to the class.
"These are the people with whom you don't need to hold back your scorn and annoyance. You'll never see them again. You don't need anything from them except, perhaps, their absence. They work for you. They've already established that they don't like you, so you might as well let fly. They're deaf, senile, or so profoundly stupid that they won't understand that they're being insulted, or at least won't remember it tomorrow morning. They're Baldrick -- which I realize is a bit redundant given the previous sentence, but the magnificence of his dullarditude puts him into a category all his own."
"Thank you, sir; unusually kind of you to say."
"Think nothing of it - also a redundant statement." To the class, Edmund said, "These are just a few broad sub-groups. Your assignment today, especially those of you from societies quite different to the 18th Century wherein my expertise lies, is to come up with specific examples that relate to your own time, place, and personal experience. Feel free to expand on each other's descriptions, or point out pitfalls under which one might, sadly, have to pretend the person described isn't a complete gitface."
[OOC: 1) Yes, he's a terrible person, and proceeds on the hopeful assumption that you are too. 2) No, he's never going to stop abusing Baldrick. 3) OCD is up; have at it!]
OOC
Today, I gave in and bought a bag of the 10$ organic fair-trade blessed-by-Tibetan-monks whole-bean stuff at the coffee shop after I told
I walked into the break room to find a pot of coffee made already. FML.
Re: OOC
I am helpful!
Also, pinging in to say Karla's off getting traumatized and bled on in the name of plot. But she'll be happy to come back and rant about the idiots in Azarath to make up for it.
Re: OOC
We are down to enough coffee for one more pot.
Send help.
Re: OOC