fandomhigh | Tricks, Cons and Bamboozles | Tuesday

So. Teaching.

When the Tricks, Cons and Bamboozles students arrived for class today, they would find their teacher ~~ungodly attractive~~ standing at the front of the room, clad in an expensive suit with his ankle tracker left deliberately visible on the outside of his pants. Some might argue that that would hurt his credibility as a teacher. Neal saw it differently.

“Welcome to Tricks, Cons and Bamboozles,” he said once everyone was seated. “I’m going to be upfront with you and tell you that teaching isn’t something I ever planned to be doing. But you’re here and I’m here, and it’s my job to teach you all a little something about being wily and persuasive – and most of all, successful.”

“But first,” he continued, “I’m going to challenge you all. A lot of teachers might have you introduce yourselves on the first day. I want you to bullshit me.” He doubted this was the kind of school where he could come under fire for using bad language, but if it was, it wasn’t like he’d ever gotten a high school diploma or sufficient experience in a high school environment to teach him that. “Introduce yourselves and try to convince me you’re someone else. Your classmates and I will be free to ask you questions to try and trip you up. Starting now.”

He pointed at someone, then gestured to the front of the room and took a seat on top of an empty desk in the first row. “Go.”

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Vaughn Pearson," Marshall 'introduced' himself. "My dad runs Pearadyne Industries."

Uh-huh. So he was starting small, then.

"Which is...?"

"They're this, like, really big lab? In Canada, but I think Dad was saying he just got a big contract from the US or something."

... Calling Victor 'Dad', even if not to his face while pretending to be Vaughn, was weird.

"I mean," Marshall continued, "I'm not really into all that science stuff. I'm a quarterback."

Yeah... this guy didn't really look like a jock. He looked exactly like a science guy.

"Oh, a quarterback," Neal said, feigning interest. "Remind me, what does the quarterback do in the game?"

Again, something else he himself had no idea of.

"We catch the ball off the snap, from the centre," Marshall explained, "and either pass it off, throw it, or scramble with it."

It's not like Marshall was Lucas. He may not play football like Vaughn, but he wasn't completely clueless about sports.

"Interesting," Neal said, nodding as if he cared. Then, with one eyebrow arched, he snarked: "You any good at it?"

Marshall nodded. "I'm pretty good," he said. "I mean, quarterback, you don't need to be as big as the other guys -- you want to be faster, right?"

It... would probably work better if that were less of a question, Marshall.

Neal smirked. This guy could use a little work on his public lying, oh yes.

"You sure about that?" he asked, amused.

"... Yes."

Wait. Vaughn was pretty built yeah, but compare him to Kubiak, and...

"Yes! I mean, half the point of the quarterback is running -- big guys have too much mass to carry to get as much speed, at least off the start. Their momentum would carry them better, but they've got too much to carry to make any real speed. No way a big guy can run like a quarterback."

Or. Something. Not helping the 'science geek' image there, Marshall.

Neal smirked.

"C-level performance," he decided. "Find me a quarterback who talks like that and I'll make it a B-minus."

Marshall groaned and banged his head on his desk.

"Vaughn actually kinda does," he explained, after looking up again. "Since he's joined the science club back home, anyway. He's learned a lot."

Laughing, Neal shook his head and said, "Sorry. I don't buy it. Video evidence or no deal." Which was mainly hypothetical, because who kept video evidence of something like that? "We'll go over lying tips next week... what's your name?"

"Marshall Wheeler." He grimaced a little. "And, hey, it was worth a try?"

He wondered idly if anyone had filmed Lucas when he and Vaughn had switched places. Or if they'd got Vaughn during that period he was sapping Josie's intelligence. Not that Vaughn wasn't plenty smart on his own, but it would definitely prove his point.

"We'll work on tips next week," Neal told him, trying to be sympathetic here. "This was just getting a feel for who's already able to bullshit without help. Don't sweat it."

"I'm looking forward to it." Marshall managed a smile -- a genuine one, at that. "At last this class isn't likely to be boring!"

Ooooo. There was a scam to try in the future: Someone's heir.

"So are you going to fun the company when you graduate college?" 'Ryan' asked.

"My dad wants me to," 'Vaughn' explained. "I dunno, though. Maybe. I could do the business side of things, I think."

"So what does Pearadyne make? Or do. And just how rich are you, dude?"

Marshall gave her an odd look. "Rich enough that I don't have to answer that question."

Really. Who asks that?

People who want to steal your money, duh.

"Thaaaat's cool. So, football. You beat up on geeks?"

C'mon. That's what jocks lived for!

"What? No." Even the real Vaughn didn't. "Some of my best friends are geeks."

It was true! Now that Vaughn was in the science club, anyway.

Kenzi leaned in to stare at him, trying to make Marshall crack. "What's the best thing about football? Who's your best geek friend? What's the gross national product of Ecuador?"

Hey, if he knew, she could always use that in her Ryan impersonation.

"Tooootally the feeling when you make a touchdown," Marshall shot back, "Marshall Wheeler, and how would I know that?"

It was way less intimidating with Kenzi, for some reason, than with Professor Caffrey.

"Maybe Pearadyne exports there, how would I know?" Kenzi shot back fast, then kept it up. "When's your birthday? Where were you born? What's your sign?"

Tricks, Cons and Bamboozles | Tuesday | Period 4

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