fandomhigh | Learnin' with Mr. Peanutbutter, Thursday, period 1

When the students entered the classroom today, they'd find all the desks shoved haphazardly against the walls, and several podiums in the center of the room, each with a student's name written on it in comic sans. Mr. Peanutbutter was standing by the chalkboard wearing a fuschia suit, his fur immaculately combed, a long-handled microphone in one hand.

He missed the giant replica Mr. Peanutbutter head.

"Hello students!" he greeted expansively. Much the way a talk show host might greet her audience at the end of each commercial break. "Welcome back to: Learnin! With Mr. Peanutbutter! Now, I know the class doesn't look quite like it normally does. That's because it's mid-season -- er, I mean, 'midterms' --" You know that got fingerquotes. "-- which means it's time to mix things up! It's also, I believe, time for the traditional 'midterm exam'. Hope you all have been studying!"

He might be mixing up midterms with pop quizzes. Sorry, folks.

"I'd like to thank the production team from the late, great, 'JD Salinger's Hollywoo Stars and Celebrities What Do They Know Do They Know Things Let's Find Out' for the loan of the supplies for today's midterm. You can catch reruns of HSACWDTKDTKTLFO Mondays through Fridays on TLC at 3 PM, 4 central, and don't forget to check out JD Salinger's next telvision project -- whatever that might turn out to be!" hey, check it out, kids. Your classes now came with sponsor plugs. Have fun with that. "Now, everybody take your places at your podiums please, and we'll get started. I'm going to ask each of you a question. If you get it right, you'll move on to the rest of the semester. Get it wrong, and you'll face --" He paused, as though waiting for a musical cue or possibly audience participation. Neither happened. "The lightning round!" The lights flashed dramatically. Because Mr. Peanutbutter flicked the light switch on and off. "Our lightning round challenge today is to clean this chalkboard and all of the erasers while somehow making use of --" He pulled a colander from under the desk and held it up for all of the students to see. "-- This spaghetti strainer." He looked up towards where he'd arbitrarily decided the camera was today. "Spaghetti strainers. Take it from a dog who knows: you can never have enough."

What happened if you failed the lightning round? Did you get kicked out of class, doomed never to finish the semester?

You should be so lucky. But no. The answer was nothing. There were no consequences for failing this midterm whatsoever.

"But enough chatter. Let's get started, shall we?" He pointed to the first student on the end of the row of podiums. "You! Are you ready for a MIDTEEEEEEEEEEERM!?"

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Okay, there were podiums today. Peridot could even pick out her name on one of them, so she went to stand behind that one. Directly behind that one. Very behind that one.

The top of her hair was visible from behind it. That was something, right?

"Peridot!" Mr. Peanutbutter said, game show host voice still in full effect. "Are you rea -- er. Are you there? Do you want an apple box?"

Standing on an apple box to look less short was a fine showbiz tradition.

"... Is that my question?" Peridot leaned sideways to peer around the podium at Mr. Peanutbutter. "The answer is yes. Yes I do want an apple box."

She wasn't entirely sure what an apple box was, but if he was going to offer, she wasn't going to turn it down.

"Did I answer correctly? Do I pass?"

"No no no," Mr. Peanutbutter said with a chuckle. "They'll edit this part out in post. I just want to make sure our cameras can see you." They couldn't. They didn't exist. "Hmm, I'm not seeing any apple boxes around. Maybe we can use a chair."

"... Oh, the apple box is to stand on," Peridot said, realization dawning. "And I need to be standing on something in order to pass this test?"

The purpose of midterms was eluding her.

Edited 2016-11-03 15:11 (UTC)

"These sorts of things tend to work best if the audience can see you," Mr. Peanutbutter said (careful not to phrase this as a question). "But if you don't want to stand on anything to be taller than the podium, that's your choice."

Peridot's nose wrinkled a little in thought at that.

"Is it my podium? If it is, why should I have to change to suit it. My podium should be me sized. It's only sensible."

Somebody might have had some tall people envy happening. She was getting a little frustrated with having to live in a world made for beings that were generally about two Peridots tall.

"Interesting proposition," Mr. Peanutbutter said. "I don't know if podiums come in starfish sizes, but if you've got a way to transform this one somehow, I -- and I'm sure our audience at home -- would love to see it!"

Good job skipping asking a question again there, Mr. Peanutbutter. Whose a good boy?!

Peridot squinted a liiiittle bit more.

"Have you got a saw?"

Most things could be solved with hacksaws.

"I do not," Mr. Peanutbutter said cheerfully.

"I see."

Peridot considered this for a moment from behind the podium. And then she shrugged and walked around it, so that she was standing in front of it with her name over... most of her head. The hair was still obscuring it somewhat.

"I'm ready for my question."

Podium fixed.

"Very well." Mr. Peanutbutter's demeanor went deadly serious. He pulled a handful of cards out of his pocket, looked at the top one, then looked back up at Peridot. "In the subject of poetry: name four words that rhyme with . . ." Was this pause dramatic enough? The editors would make sure. ". . . 'dog'."

Peridot squinted for a moment. Four words that rhymed with dog? That took a moment for her to consider.

"Slog, smog, cog, and..." she paused for another moment more. "Analog."

There were so many perfectly good rhyming words that she wasn't familiar with yet due to how new she was to Earth. But those, at least, she knew.

"Oooo, nice twist on that last one." Because rhyming a two-syllable word with a one-syllable word was definitely a 'twist'. "Very clever. Congratulations!" This was where on a properly funded show, confetti would rain from the ceiling. This not even being an actual show, it didn't happen. "You get to move on to the rest of the semester!"

"I'm so excited," Peridot replied, tone completely dry.

It was probably for the best that she got to continue on. If she had to figure out how to clean things using a colander, it would probably only end in tears.

Really, this entire class was destined to end in tears eventually.

"I'll see you back here next week," Mr. Peanutbutter said.

Hey. Getting out of class early. That was a decent prize, right?

Learnin' with Mr. Peanutbutter, Thursday, period 1

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