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fandomhigh2014-02-07 09:47 am
notmysupervisor.livejournal.com) wrote in fandomhigh2014-02-07 09:47 am
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The Modern Workplace and You [Friday, period 1]
Responsible teachers might have put today’s class in the Danger Shop, so that no one could get hurt. Pam and Cheryl were not those people.
The chairs were cleared out from the classroom and had been piled in the hall. Pam, instead of her usual business attire, was wearing a sleeveless tank, grey sweatpants, and fingerless black leather gloves. Were those bloodstains on the shirt? Yes. Yes, they were.
They might be from the frozen side of beef that she’d hung from the ceiling, that she was casually punching. None of the bums she’d found in Baltimore wanted to come get their asses kicked for a class demonstration. Not even when she’d offered them $20. Punk-ass bitches.
Cheryl, on the other hand, was still dressed like Cheryl, though today she was snacking on a bag of gummy bears. (At least, they looked like gummy bears, right?)
"I keep expecting fewer of you to actually turn up," she said, watching the students file in. "Don't you guys have somewhere better to be? I know I do."
Well, kind of. She really liked the idea of watching a bunch of bloodshed, but she would have made it later in the day, at least.
“Today, we’re gonna talk about ways to make extra money since your boss doesn’t pay shit,” Pam supplied helpfully. “Or ways to pay for your college education, if … any of you lot are going to college.”
They were all kind of weird, was all. This wasn’t really the AP class or anything, as far as Pam could tell.
"Or if you wanna support your crack habit!" Cheryl chirped helpfully. "What? You might develop a crack habit. I don't know your lives."
“Point is, most of you aren’t secretly worth half a billion dollars,” Pam said, giving Cheryl the look of someone who resented the fact that her best friend was quite literally worth half a billion dollars. “So … underground fighting! There are clubs in all kinds of cities. You just have to find them. This isn’t like that movie, where dudes beat each other up because their dads skipped town; this is people paying good money to watch a coupla fighters beat the shit out of each other. If you can take a punch, you can rake it in, big time.”
Pam, exactly no one in class looked like the type who could take a punch. Like, at all.
"But say you're a lover, not a fighter," Cheryl said, waggling her brows. "Or...a person who loves watching fights, anyway. You get to bet! 'But Cheryl,' you might be asking yourself, 'if two of my friends are punching each other in the eardrums, how do I decide who to bet on?' You choose the one who looks most likely to get creative."
She reached over and gingerly patted Pam on the shoulder. "Like, I know I can count on Pam to win. It doesn't really matter how. And it'll be interesting. And kinda hot. She might bring a chair in from the hall, or bite someone's ear off or something!"
“Biting someone’s ear off is against the rules,” Pam said. “And kind of a pussy move. I did punch a guy so hard once that he coughed up part of his liver.”
Reach for those stars, Pammy.
“So today you’re gonna pair up and duke it out! If it’s not your turn, put up some bets on who you think is gonna win. Cheer ‘em on, or just yell stuff. Get loud! So, who’s first?”
The chairs were cleared out from the classroom and had been piled in the hall. Pam, instead of her usual business attire, was wearing a sleeveless tank, grey sweatpants, and fingerless black leather gloves. Were those bloodstains on the shirt? Yes. Yes, they were.
They might be from the frozen side of beef that she’d hung from the ceiling, that she was casually punching. None of the bums she’d found in Baltimore wanted to come get their asses kicked for a class demonstration. Not even when she’d offered them $20. Punk-ass bitches.
Cheryl, on the other hand, was still dressed like Cheryl, though today she was snacking on a bag of gummy bears. (At least, they looked like gummy bears, right?)
"I keep expecting fewer of you to actually turn up," she said, watching the students file in. "Don't you guys have somewhere better to be? I know I do."
Well, kind of. She really liked the idea of watching a bunch of bloodshed, but she would have made it later in the day, at least.
“Today, we’re gonna talk about ways to make extra money since your boss doesn’t pay shit,” Pam supplied helpfully. “Or ways to pay for your college education, if … any of you lot are going to college.”
They were all kind of weird, was all. This wasn’t really the AP class or anything, as far as Pam could tell.
"Or if you wanna support your crack habit!" Cheryl chirped helpfully. "What? You might develop a crack habit. I don't know your lives."
“Point is, most of you aren’t secretly worth half a billion dollars,” Pam said, giving Cheryl the look of someone who resented the fact that her best friend was quite literally worth half a billion dollars. “So … underground fighting! There are clubs in all kinds of cities. You just have to find them. This isn’t like that movie, where dudes beat each other up because their dads skipped town; this is people paying good money to watch a coupla fighters beat the shit out of each other. If you can take a punch, you can rake it in, big time.”
Pam, exactly no one in class looked like the type who could take a punch. Like, at all.
"But say you're a lover, not a fighter," Cheryl said, waggling her brows. "Or...a person who loves watching fights, anyway. You get to bet! 'But Cheryl,' you might be asking yourself, 'if two of my friends are punching each other in the eardrums, how do I decide who to bet on?' You choose the one who looks most likely to get creative."
She reached over and gingerly patted Pam on the shoulder. "Like, I know I can count on Pam to win. It doesn't really matter how. And it'll be interesting. And kinda hot. She might bring a chair in from the hall, or bite someone's ear off or something!"
“Biting someone’s ear off is against the rules,” Pam said. “And kind of a pussy move. I did punch a guy so hard once that he coughed up part of his liver.”
Reach for those stars, Pammy.
“So today you’re gonna pair up and duke it out! If it’s not your turn, put up some bets on who you think is gonna win. Cheer ‘em on, or just yell stuff. Get loud! So, who’s first?”
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