fandomhigh | Classrooms Around Campus, All Day Saturday

Classrooms Around Campus, All Day Saturday

It was Saturday, and that meant Career Day! Unbeknownst to all the students who had taken the career placement test, Fandom had apparently conspired to place them all in workshops that didn't quite fit the answers they gave for their tests. The island was tricky that way. Not to mention that the workshops that the island had planned were somewhat different from the workshops an ordinary school might offer on Career Day. As in quite a lot different.

So the classrooms all around the school were filled with visitors from off-island and island alike, all of whom had been led to believe that they would be teaching eager-minded groups of students, excited to learn about their prospective careers. This assumption was not necessarily accurate.

[[up early early early for timezones! ~~wait for the OCD or puppies will die.~~ the puppies are safe now.]]

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"I could someday rule the world with Karla's baking?"

If he had any less integrity, Warren would probably seriously be considering that.

"I guess I could find some way to replace the world's food supply with her cookies, and then I'd have the entire population of Earth at my mercy..."

Wesley smirked. This was almost as much fun to speculate about as the zebras-and-crocodiles story. Karla-spurned apocalypses. Fun!

"I suppose the only hurdle would be getting the world to accept the cookies as the food supply," he mused. "They're sometimes... discolored, I suppose? They don't look much like cookies."

"I guess that would have to be where I commission some sort of matter-replacer device," Warren decided, biting the inside of his cheek in order to keep from laughing out. "It would probably require a whole bunch of double-As, but in the end, victory would be mine."

Wesley grinned. "Bugger," he said, mock-disappointed. "And I suppose a team of vigilantes would have to go up against you, only to tragically accept defeat in the face of your mountains and mountains of poisoned cookies."

See, Karla? Bad baking killed.

The Avengers wouldn't stand a chance!

"I wonder if I could actually turn the mountains into cookies..."

There was an idea. Hm...

Hmm indeed...

"Possibly," he said. "With your, ah, double-A battery matter device. Although that might require extra power. D batteries, maybe."

"I could probably tape some tinfoil to the top and call it a solar battery," Warren decided. "Perfect until I decide that the sun needs to be made into cookies, too."

"Oh, fine point," Wesley said, then tilted his head in consideration. "But then how could you bake more cookies without a heat source?"

Oh, Wesley posed important questions, here.

"Volcanoes," Warren decided, very solemnly, indeed. "Geothermal poison cookies."

"Ah."

A beat.

"And will Karla continue to bake for you if she knows your nefarious purposes?"

"Do you have the heart to tell her that her cookies are toxic?"

See, if she never found out, then Warren was totally in the clear!

"Well, no," Wesley admitted. "So she'll believe that you're using the cookies to feed your hungry populace, I suppose."

Sweet, innocent Karla.

Oh, please. Cookies that bad couldn't possibly come from a sweet, innocent anything.

"Pretty much," laughed Warren. "I mean, she puts so much into those cookies, it's entirely possible that they contain all vital vitamins and minerals in every bite."

Iron. Zinc. Limestone...

...Uranium 234...

"Well," he said, with another glance at the teacher, who was still talking. "How will you explain your own unwillingness to eat the cookies?"

"I'm a greedy, greedy guy who just wants to ferret them all away somewhere and have them all to myself," Warren explained. "She never gets to see me actually disposing of them."

By putting them into bags marked as dangerous bio-waste.

"Ah."

Wesley grinned. "Well," he said. "I suppose your plan for dictatorship is secure, then. But the question is... who will you hire as your courier?"

"Well, that should be obvious," Warren laughed. "Since you're obviously so suited for the job, I'd almost have to offer you gainful employment, hauling my death-cookies."

Lucky you!

[And it's bedtime over here! Mind some SP?]

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Classrooms Around Campus, All Day Saturday

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