Fandom High School

Today Josh had sent his class an email telling them to meet him at Chilly Boulder.

"All right," he said, smiling from behind the counter, "sure hope none of you are lactose intolerant or allergic to milk because today's final class is about learning to build the most ridiculous sundae I have ever seen: the Skywalker. And Skippy here--" the worker next to Josh frowned because his name definitely wasn't Skippy, "--is going to show us how. It's basically one scoop of everything covered in all the toppings but rainbow spinkles, right?"

Definitely-not-Skippy nodded, then gave a demonstration on proper ice cream scooping technique before setting everyone up with a bucket serving bowl and setting them to work.

"After you've made your Skywalkers, you can try to eat them!" Josh said. "I'm not liable for the stomachache, though. Happy last part of summer."

"Hey guys," Josh said with a fiendish smile as he ushered them into a call center that smelled like stale coffee, old french fries and despair.

Aren't you glad you took this class, guys? SO MUCH FUN.

"Today you're the customer service section of a major cable company," he told them, "and one of the workmen just went out and accidentally cut a cable, knocking 5,000 customers offline. You have no idea when their internet or televisions will work again. So....good luck with that."

And with that, in true managerial style, he left them alone. With the phone ringing off the freaking hooks.

"Hey all," Josh said. "You probably don't recognize this kind of store: it's one that sells records of music to people face to face with money being exchanged instead of getting your stuff via torrents and iTunes."

He was judging you, teenagers. With your free music and things. Also, he was forgetting Groovy Tunes was a store in town.

"Anyway, today your job is to help people find music they want, even if they come in with stupidly unhelpful descriptors as the only clues. Bonus points if you get them to buy Rick Astley."

"Welcome to Customer Service and You," Josh said. "I have had some seriously itchy polyblend shirts made up for you in bright yellow with your names on 'em. No need to thank me, but you do need to wear them every week."

Mean, Josh.

"This class is gonna show you how to interact with people in a way that doesn't involve you setting them on fire because people can be amazingly, amazingly stupid but jail is not really a good thing," Josh said. He gestured around at the county fair he'd programmed the Danger Shop to look like. "Since the Fourth of July is Friday, America is chock full of hometown fun like this full of sticky, over-sugared kids, parents bitching about how much watered down beer costs, and at least one teenager trying to rock the ferris wheel basket until his girlfriend bursts into tears and breaks up with him for being a di--" Josh remembered he was talking to students just in time, "--jerk. Anyway, you'll each be given a job that you're pulling out of this hat--" he held out a Mets ball cap, "--and then I'll send some Danger Shop people at you to be annoying. The goal is to not have them ask for your supervisor. Good luck!"

"Hey there," Josh said, leaning against the counter at the front of a McDonald's restaurant, "and welcome to the Danger Shop. This is your summer workshop on customer service." He gestured to a table where they would find hats, hairnets, and shirts with their names on them. "Please turn off your cell phones, put on your extremely attractive new outfits and get behind the counters."

Once the students had done so, Josh gave them a brief tutorial on how to make the cash registers work, then smiled a little fiendishly. "Good," he said, heading over to the controls of the Danger Shop. "Let's add some customers. You're on the lunch rush starting....now."

And dozens of customers in all shapes and sizes flooded into the restaurant.