hollywoostar (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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fandomhigh2016-09-01 12:53 am
hollywoostar) wrote in fandomhigh2016-09-01 12:53 am
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Learnin' with Mr. Peanutbutter, Thursday, period 1
Mr. Peanutbutter lounged at the teacher's desk as the students filed in. His feet, clad in purple high top sneakers, were propped up on the desk, his arms folded behind his head, his sunglasses in place over his eyes. His mouth was open, showing his full set of gleaming Hollywoo-white canine fangs. His tongue lolled out the side of his mouth.
Every now and then he twitched, paws moving as though he were dreaming about chasing rabbits. But that was silly, he hadn't chased any rabbits since he was in high school! And it was always consensual chasing. It isn't nice to chase rabbits who aren't interested in being chased, no matter how short their skirts are.
At precisely the time that the class period was to start, an old-fashioned school bell rang. Was that bell always there? Unimportant. It's there now, and it's going to ring at the start and end of every one of Mr. Peanutbutter's classes. Better get used to that now, kids.
Mr. Peanutbutter awoke with a start and let out three barks, his sunglasses sliding down his muzzle to show his wide eyes. Then he blinked, yawned theatrically, and slid his sunglasses up to their customary position on top of his head. "Oh hi there!" he said, smiling charmingly at the class. "I didn't see you come in. Is it time for class already?" He chuckled. "Oh my, where does the time go."
He stood up and walked around his desk like an actor hitting his next mark, and leaned casually against it. "Welcome to Learnin' With Mr. Peanutbutter. Before we get started, let me just pass out some worksheets, here. Nothing to be worried about, just standard contracts: you agree to be filmed, your image and name can be used in promotional material by the network in perpetuity, you'll never sue, yadda yadda. This really should have been taken care of before I even got out to set this morning, but you know how reality television can be. Hoo boy!" He finished passing out the papers, which were photocopied pages of college ruled notebook paper with 'YOU'RE IN MY SHOW!' written on them, a little drawing of Mr. Peanutbutter doing a thumbs up in the corner, and a slightly squiggly line with an X next to it for the signature. He dusted his paws off and rested them on his hips.
"Now that that's taken care of --" though, no, he had not confirmed in any way at all that any of those contracts were signed, not that it mattered, as he didn't have any cameras, this wasn't a set, and the reason his producers hadn't gotten the students' contracts signed ahead of time was that they were in Detroit, wondering where the hell their star was already. "-- Let's get down to business, shall we? The business -- of learning!" He winked at the students and chuckled again. "It's our first class together, so you know what that means: time for me to shock you all out of your teenage ennui with unconventional teaching style. You!" He pointed suddenly at a student in the front row. "Up on your desk and introduce yourself! Now, student!" he barked. Literally. Then howled, then cut himself off with another friendly chuckle. "Very nice." Once again, he made no move to make sure his orders were actually being followed. "All of you, up on your desks! It's a classic for a reason! Tell me your names or any random thing you've just now decided to be called for the entire remainder of your high school career! Then tell me your hopes and dreams! All of them! We've got time!"
They did not have time.
Every now and then he twitched, paws moving as though he were dreaming about chasing rabbits. But that was silly, he hadn't chased any rabbits since he was in high school! And it was always consensual chasing. It isn't nice to chase rabbits who aren't interested in being chased, no matter how short their skirts are.
At precisely the time that the class period was to start, an old-fashioned school bell rang. Was that bell always there? Unimportant. It's there now, and it's going to ring at the start and end of every one of Mr. Peanutbutter's classes. Better get used to that now, kids.
Mr. Peanutbutter awoke with a start and let out three barks, his sunglasses sliding down his muzzle to show his wide eyes. Then he blinked, yawned theatrically, and slid his sunglasses up to their customary position on top of his head. "Oh hi there!" he said, smiling charmingly at the class. "I didn't see you come in. Is it time for class already?" He chuckled. "Oh my, where does the time go."
He stood up and walked around his desk like an actor hitting his next mark, and leaned casually against it. "Welcome to Learnin' With Mr. Peanutbutter. Before we get started, let me just pass out some worksheets, here. Nothing to be worried about, just standard contracts: you agree to be filmed, your image and name can be used in promotional material by the network in perpetuity, you'll never sue, yadda yadda. This really should have been taken care of before I even got out to set this morning, but you know how reality television can be. Hoo boy!" He finished passing out the papers, which were photocopied pages of college ruled notebook paper with 'YOU'RE IN MY SHOW!' written on them, a little drawing of Mr. Peanutbutter doing a thumbs up in the corner, and a slightly squiggly line with an X next to it for the signature. He dusted his paws off and rested them on his hips.
"Now that that's taken care of --" though, no, he had not confirmed in any way at all that any of those contracts were signed, not that it mattered, as he didn't have any cameras, this wasn't a set, and the reason his producers hadn't gotten the students' contracts signed ahead of time was that they were in Detroit, wondering where the hell their star was already. "-- Let's get down to business, shall we? The business -- of learning!" He winked at the students and chuckled again. "It's our first class together, so you know what that means: time for me to shock you all out of your teenage ennui with unconventional teaching style. You!" He pointed suddenly at a student in the front row. "Up on your desk and introduce yourself! Now, student!" he barked. Literally. Then howled, then cut himself off with another friendly chuckle. "Very nice." Once again, he made no move to make sure his orders were actually being followed. "All of you, up on your desks! It's a classic for a reason! Tell me your names or any random thing you've just now decided to be called for the entire remainder of your high school career! Then tell me your hopes and dreams! All of them! We've got time!"
They did not have time.
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