fandomhigh | Dealing With Idiots | Friday

"The first person to say anything about my ears gets to sit next to Baldrick for the entire class."

This would be punishment enough on a normal day. Today, when Baldrick waved and gave a yellow-toothed grin to the students, it was followed by, "...HICCUP!"

And a small ball of fire bounced out of his mouth towards Edmund, who leapt atop his desk in the nick of time, shooting back... only a withering glare. "Don't make me hit you with my tail again, Balders." Dignity, Dignity at all costs. He straightened up and struck a manly heroic pose atop the desk, like he'd always intended to do that.

"This is my Horatio Nelson impression; some would say the lack of pigeons crapping on my head makes it less realistic, but I'm prepared to trade verisimilitude for hygiene. I'm also not standing atop an overcompensatory granite column that, quelle surprise, is actually several feet shorter than advertised for the last two hundred years." Also, Lord Nelson didn't have raccoon ears. Probably. Given the size of his hat, who could tell. He could be wearing a rhinoceros on his head for all Edmund knew. "I do share a rather unfortunate tendency toward seasickness with the man, but one of us had the brains to avoid attempting to parlay that into an illustrious naval career."

The eyerolling would have been audible if Baldrick hadn't hiccupped over it and singed his own hand as he went to cover his mouth. Edmund jumped down from the desk without giving him more than a glance, and addressed the class from a less statuesque height.

"My point, and I do have one, is that, as some of my country's less ungrateful colonials have immortalised in obnoxiously catchy song, history is made by stupid people. Some of them become famous because of their idiocy -- I'm fairly certain Baldrick will have a place in the annals of FOR GOD'S SAKE, BALDRICK, AIM AT THE WASTEBIN! ...something. If I don't kill him first. Others seem to succeed despite it, like a certain Hanoverian prince whose inability to even button his trousers on his own could have resulted in his premature death by natural selection any number of times, but instead netted him an entire era and an ironically well-mannered sub-genre of romance novels named after him."

Edmund leaned back against the desk. "I've given you two of mine, though trust me, there's plenty more where those came from. Now tell us yours."

[OOC: OCD ~~on ze way~~ up, post open!]

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Like you want a place in the history books.

Effy Stonem

Alex Karev

Wesley Wyndam-Pryce

Makita

Rilla Blythe

Ramona Flowers

Karla

Jonothon Starsmore

Squall Leonhart

Medusalith Amaquelin

Joolushko Tunai Fenta Hovalis

Improvise fireball shields out of a Trapper Keeper...

"Your turn. Name someone from your own culture's history that you consider to be an absolute tit. If they're famous despite their stupidity, feel free to help your classmates take a stab at guessing how they managed it."

"My father," Squall grumbled. "The President of Esthar."

The gnome that lived in the back of Blackadder's head made another note on the List of People Who might Someday Prove Valuable Before Ultimately Pissing Me Off And Needing To Be Disposed Of Once I Come To Power.

Blackadder himself said only, "Mine was a bit of a twat himself, but at least he didn't rise to political office. My sympathies."

Squall shrugged. "He didn't know I existed until last year. And I didn't know he was my father. It was less annoying that way."

"The Kree," Medusalith said.

Yes. All of them.

"And what, pray tell, is a Kree, besides something that sounds like a hunting bird with indigestion?"

"An alien race who genetically modified a group of humans in an attempt to artificially evolve them. Which worked," Medusalith said. "But then they simply ended the project and left their test subjects behind among the lesser beings."

Edmund raised an eyebrow...and twitched an ear. "That...would actually explain quite a bit about my life..."

Medusalith looked as if he had offended her deeply and persnally. "I assure you we removed ourselves from the society of you primates as quickly as possible." Ew.

"Not that I'm here to teach you taxonomy, but 'primate' is an order, not a species, to which you most definitely still belong." Also he'd meant that the lesser being thing didn't apply to himself. Naturally. "But I would concur with your opinion of your creators' stupidity, yes."

Though if it's about his ears, he might tell you to just drop the class now.

History is made by stupid people.
Clever people wouldn't even try.

If you want a place in the history books, then do something dumb before you die.

Dealing With Idiots | Friday | Period 4 (Session 13)

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Listen to the Lecture/Chatter Before Class

Discussion - Great Morons In History

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Talk to Blackadder

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