fandomhigh | Tricks, Cons and Bamboozles | Tuesday

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tricks & cons

Tricks, Cons and Bamboozles | Tuesday | Period 4

Today in class, the Tricks, Cons and Bamboozles students would be happy to find a projector set up in the front of the room and a DVD set to its home screen. Unfortunately, upon second glance, that DVD on its home screen was a 40-minute long FBI recruitment video. And on each of the desks was a brochure with the FBI logo on top that contained much the same message.

As if that wasn't bad enough, a fairly miserable-looking Neal was holding notes that had just been faxed to him from Peter, containing a script for today's class.

Peter... may have just found out what Neal was teaching here, exactly.

"Hey," he said to the class once everyone had arrived, looking decidedly unenthusiastic about today. Holding up his notes so as to make it perfectly clear he was reading from a script, he recited dully, "Of course, no training in tricks and cons would be complete without an understanding of how you can use those skills to assist with national security." He rolled his eyes. "Really, Peter?"

Monotonously, he continued, "Having been taught how to lie and deceive people over the past six weeks, now you should turn your attention to one of this nation's finest career opportunities that will allow you to put those skills to use while helping your country. Please know that the FBI is an exciting, morally upstanding career choice."

That part made Neal feel a little sick.

Putting down his notes, he clapped his hands and said, "Okay. Movie time. And then a little presentation from Kenzi that has nothing to do with... this."

That last word was uttered with more than a little bit of contempt. He really hated Peter sometimes.

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Super dramatic, probably meant to be inspirational. Kind of like forty minutes' worth of this.

Ramona was alternating between doing her best not to fall asleep (and largely failing) and drawing caricatures of her classmates.

She wasn't much of an artist, but it was easy to guess who was who, at least.

The movie? Not so much with keeping her attention, no.

Nathan...couldn't ever see himself in a job like this. Plus, that guy that Professor Caffrey had been talking to had the look of the permanently constipated and if Nathan ever ended up looking like that, he'd jump off a fucking bridge.

And come back to life. Sigh.

He was kicked back and pretending to watch but maybe he was sleeping with his eyes open. Maybe.

He wouldn't be for long, if Ramona had anything to do with it. She wrote down a note, then carefully aimed it so that when it struck him, it would hit the side of his head.

She was caring.

I really want to join the FBI now so that I can be as attractive as all these informative, sexy people.

It wasn't nice waking Nathan out of his half doze by throwing shit at him. She was just lucky it was her and not someone else. He reached down and picked up the note so he could read it.

Too bad you're ugly and will never be able to get that hot. That was what she got for throwing shit at him. He threw that back at her and smirked mightily.

Enjoy not touching me for awhile.

That was what he got for calling her ugly. Even in jest. She just arched a brow in response to that smirk.

I'll just find something else to touch.

And if she read into that, it was her own fucking fault. He tossed the note back and exhaled lazily.

Sounds lonely. I'm better.

That's what she read into it, yep.

Ego much? You don't know that for a fact. I could be going to touch something fucking incredible.

You know, like himself.

I'm better at touching, too. Which was a lofty claim considering that he was basically an expert at that. He had a lot of practice.

Again, you don't know and I'm honestly put off by all this ego and pompous attitude your showing.

He wasn't.

Lies.

This time she included drawing of a tiny figure with a mess of curly hair. And thoughtfully, she made sure one of his hands was raised and flipping the bird.

She knew his trademarks.

What the fuck is that supposed to be? If that's me, that's fucking awful. You've got my hair wrong, my arms wrong, my legs fucked up and I am disappointed in those sausages you call fingers.

And he was not lying!

And now she added a little speech bubble to it, reading, "My name's Nathan, and I'm an ungrateful jackass! Also, Ramona is the prettiest."

If you're going to slander me, I'm not going to continue this conversation.

Nathan tried to make his handwriting look haughty but whatever, that was hard.

And now Ramona drew another figure with short, wavy hair next to the other one, and even searched through her bag for a blue pen to color her hair.

Her speech bubble said, "I like you even if you are a jackass!" because apparently today she was being cute.

And below that, she added, It's libel when it's written down, not slander. Fun fact.

Nathan couldn't bring himself to vandalize the cartoon she'd drawn because it was kind of cute. He smiled at it instead and drew stink lines coming from Ramona just for fun.

Fuck your fun facts. That's the only thing you'll be fucking so have fun with that.

That's what she got for lecturing him!

And now the cartoon Ramona had a sad face.

But everyone loses that way!

Nathan rolled his eyes and shook his head. I never lose. You're just trying to project your problems onto me because you miss my touch so fucking much. You should get in touch with your self pleasuring urges, Ramona.

I'm plenty in touch with those, thank you.

She paused, and added: Feel free to think about that when you're getting in touch with your own.

Nah.

And that note was accompanied by a smirk and a toss of his hair.

Ramona stifled a snort, then drew some rather detailed fire on the cartoon Nathan's pants.

She drew an arrow pointing to it, writing: Due to all the lying, you see.

Marshall's attention was... kind of on the movie. He was, after all, one of those more-or-less squeaky-clean kids who only ever really thought about breaking rules, not laws, and in his head that distinction was important.

That said, he still had some grey patches, and his nails were still claw-like. if much less-so than they had been; he'd be distracted from anything today.

It was actually almost refreshing, after a year in Fandom, to see that sometimes teachers punked out and showed filmstrips. Quinn stopped pating attention pretty early on, since her career plans included absolutely nothing that could get her killed. Instead, she opened her notebook and started trying to caricature Mr. Cafferty. It was hard, making a funny drawing of someone that hot.

Richie, when he wasn't fighting dozing off, spent a bit of time wondering if anyone actually joined up after watching this thing. Or if the people who made it really thought anyone would. Maybe it was just a torture device.

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