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fandomhigh2014-11-21 11:24 am
notmysupervisor.livejournal.com) wrote in fandomhigh2014-11-21 11:24 am
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How to Totally Be a Spy, For Real (We Mean It) [Friday, Period 1]
Today, students would find that Cheryl and Pam had not actually managed to make the Danger Shop into anything. No, instead, they were in a normal classroom, but for a given value of normal, per usual.
For one thing, Cheryl and Pam being anywhere made it automatically not normal, especially given Cheryl's particularly glazed expression and the tube of glue she was sniffing not-at-all discreetly.
For another, and possibly more noticeably, there were play tunnels set up all over. Because no one here was actually going to climb into an air duct for preparation for this class, regardless of what they were asking the kids to do.
"I hope you all came high," Cheryl greeted them. "Because I'm not sharing, and this has the potential to be trippyyyyyyyyy."
“You get to all pretend to be kittens!” Pam said excitedly. “Or ocelots, except if you pee on things, I’m gonna give you detention. So pretend to be something else that doesn’t bite people and piss all over their nice dresses, okay?”
You got zero points for accurate roleplaying, was what Pam was trying to lay down here. Never mind that Pam had no idea if this school even had detention. A threat was a threat was a threat.
"Sometimes when you're a spy you have to hide in air ducts," Cheryl explained, helpfully. "And not piss on things like my fucking ocelot does. But like, come on. You guys have seenmeta for Die Hard, right? That guy spends half the goddamn movie in air ducts!"
And he was also not a spy, but you know. Details. Effort. Et cetera.
“Air ducts let you get around places all sneaky like,” said Pam, who had never been inside an air duct in her life. “So long as you know where you’re going. I mean, imagine if you start climbing and go the wrong direction and end up in the furnace!”
Yes. Imagine that, class. Imagine it.
“So get down on those hands and knees and start crawling,” Pam announced. “Keep one hand near your head like you’ve got a walkie-talkie and are trying to coordinate with the rest of your crew. Come up with a cool catch phrase for when you start taunting the bad guy. Yippie-ki-yay!”
"Except for the T-1000," Cheryl added, except she also meant the meta for that, too. "Unless you can figure that out, buddy. But don't like, shoot me with robot lasers if you can't and you're pissed about it."
Someday she'd learn your name, Joker. Someday.
For one thing, Cheryl and Pam being anywhere made it automatically not normal, especially given Cheryl's particularly glazed expression and the tube of glue she was sniffing not-at-all discreetly.
For another, and possibly more noticeably, there were play tunnels set up all over. Because no one here was actually going to climb into an air duct for preparation for this class, regardless of what they were asking the kids to do.
"I hope you all came high," Cheryl greeted them. "Because I'm not sharing, and this has the potential to be trippyyyyyyyyy."
“You get to all pretend to be kittens!” Pam said excitedly. “Or ocelots, except if you pee on things, I’m gonna give you detention. So pretend to be something else that doesn’t bite people and piss all over their nice dresses, okay?”
You got zero points for accurate roleplaying, was what Pam was trying to lay down here. Never mind that Pam had no idea if this school even had detention. A threat was a threat was a threat.
"Sometimes when you're a spy you have to hide in air ducts," Cheryl explained, helpfully. "And not piss on things like my fucking ocelot does. But like, come on. You guys have seen
And he was also not a spy, but you know. Details. Effort. Et cetera.
“Air ducts let you get around places all sneaky like,” said Pam, who had never been inside an air duct in her life. “So long as you know where you’re going. I mean, imagine if you start climbing and go the wrong direction and end up in the furnace!”
Yes. Imagine that, class. Imagine it.
“So get down on those hands and knees and start crawling,” Pam announced. “Keep one hand near your head like you’ve got a walkie-talkie and are trying to coordinate with the rest of your crew. Come up with a cool catch phrase for when you start taunting the bad guy. Yippie-ki-yay!”
"Except for the T-1000," Cheryl added, except she also meant the meta for that, too. "Unless you can figure that out, buddy. But don't like, shoot me with robot lasers if you can't and you're pissed about it."
Someday she'd learn your name, Joker. Someday.
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