fandomhigh | 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?”

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"Excuse me?" Joker asked. "Ms. Crazylady? -- I'm sorry, Professor Crazylady? You may or may not have noticed, but we've got a cripple all up in the hizzy."

Who today was extra crippled, thanks to pushing too hard on the pedals while driving yesterday. He had his foot propped up on a chair, even.

"You can bring the crutches into the ring," Pam offered, helpfully. "Just smack someone around with them. It's like getting to use a weapon! Instant advantage."

"No, it's not," Joker explained. Because Pam had no idea how often this topic seemed to come up. "I smack someone with the crutch and they get a welt. I, on the other hand, get the lottery of 'is my arm going to break'. That's the opposite of an advantage."

"Shit, are you serious?" Pam asked. "Your superpower really sucks. You're, like, the worst Y-person ever."

Pam maaaaaay have missed that he had an ordinary genetic condition and wasn't, you know, in a comic book. Easy mistake.

"Yeah, not a Y-person," Joker told her. "Because that sort of thing only happens in comic books. Call it... Sub-tastic Four. Cosmic radiation mutates my genes, and all I get is a perfectly normal disease."

"Oh, man," Pam said. "Cosmic radiation? Did you get this from suntanning too long? Because I thought you just got skin cancer from that."

"Yeah, sure," Joker sighed. "I got a congenital disease from sunbathing. And then I was bitten by a radioactive jellyfish."

Please, like Pam knew words like congenital.

"And you still don't have powers?" Pam gaped. "That's just wrong. You oughta call somebody."

Edited 2014-02-07 19:04 (UTC)

Joker facepalmed. "I... I just... You know, sometimes, I wonder why I even bother to try."

Pam nodded sympathetically. "I'd avoid the beach from now on, if I were you."

"I'll fight you," Cecil offered. "I know Verbal Hand Grenade. Um do they have that where you're from?"

Because he liked Joker, and so far classes here had been remarkably non-fatal; weird as it was, he sort of enjoyed it.

"Never heard of it," Joker replied. "Is that something like, you say a word and I blow up? Because I am so not doing that."

"Oh, no!" Cecil laughed. "I can't do that. At least not that I know of. I ask a question, and then you ask a question. You just keep going. You have to ask questions, and they can't be rhetorical, and you can't repeat them." He shrugged. "They didn't actually specify which weapons we needed."

[OOC: OMG, LJ again! I'm not getting notifications! Sorry. Also, see verbal tennis, but I don't imagine they call it that in NV.]

"Oh, you mean the Question Game! Yeah, I know that one!" Joker grinned. "Do you think either of those two would have thought of a battle with words?"

Cecil glanced at Pam and Cheryl, then back to Joker. "Do you think they know what wonderful weapons words are?"

Joker shrugged. "If they did, wouldn't they have suggested this already?"

Cecil snorted. "Would they offer us any help they didn't have to?"

"Would they do anything they didn't have to? ...Aside from maybe large amounts of drugs?"

The Modern Workplace and You [Friday, period 1]

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