Fandom High School

French class met in the Danger Shop today, which had been programmed to resemble a rather down-at-the-heels speakeasy. Three old ladies playing instruments made out of household debris were on-stage, filling the air with unusual jazz.

"Welcome to your last class," Henry said in a raised voice. "I thought about giving a test, but it's about 500 degrees outside. Chill out in here, watch the music, flirt with the patrons if you're up to it. Your entertainment today is the famous Triplettes de Belleville."

"If you feel like going after grades," he added to any suck-ups int he room, "there's some quiet space over by the kitchen. You can write a brief paper on what you learned this term -- either an essay, or a script, or a piece of poetry. Or .. be creative. And enjoy the music."

It was amazing what you could do with a vacuum cleaner.

French class met around a large, circular table in the Danger Shop today, which had been programmed to resemble a bustling French bistro. Henry had to shout a little bit to be heard over the background noise.

//Welcome to the Bistrot du Coin//, he said. He'd decided this was the week he'd speak French for the entire class. //This is modeled after a real restaurant in Washington. I hope you're a little hungry even though this is a weird time for a meal, because your assignment this week is to order something off the restaurant's menu. Here's a vocabulary sheet for the day; the moddable waiter will be by in a few minutes. I'm getting the Confit de Canard, for what it's worth.//

//Make polite conversation while you eat, please.//

By the time he got to the classroom, Henry was dressed fairly normally and had washed his face and hands.

He counted all of this as an accomplishment.

"We're talking about shopping for clothes today," he said. "I could spend the hour talking about the history of haute couture -- here, have a handout -- but that strikes me as a pretty boring way to spend a day." A beat, during which Henry could practically hear his friend Gomez laughing at him. "We're playing dress-up instead."

He passed out a vocabulary sheet, and gestured to a stack of French fashion magazines he'd requisitioned from the library.

"Spend as long as you want looking through these, then put together an outfit from the racks of clothes at the back of the room. Talk to each other in French about what you're picking out."

Henry had planned a straightforward first week of classes. Bonjour, ca va, je m'appelle..., all of that.

What he had not planned on was the big pug-bear-yak thing that was firmly in the middle of the classroom when Henry got there, wearing a beret and a scarf and looking like he was about to order brie on a croissant.

He was, of course, the anticipated Alot of bad French grammar.

Henry made a few attempts to shoo it out the door. The creature didn't move, and finally Henry gave up and stepped forward, hands in his pockets.

"Hi," he said. "Bonjour. Salut. I am Henry DeTamble, call me Henry or Mr. DeTamble or 'hey, library guy,' whatever works. Welcome to Functional French, which is my attempt at teaching a language class at this school, you lucky, lucky people. Here is the syllabus, and here is your textbook for the term."

"I'm not going to ask you to speak a lot of French this week" -- the creature perked up at its name, but looked disappointed that Henry had not summoned a friend for it -- "but I'd like for you to start by introducing yourselves in this format: 'Bonjour, je m'appelle Henri' -- or whatever your names actually are, and bonus points if you say it with a French pronunciation -- and your answer to the question Ca va, which is 'how are you doing.' You might just say 'ca va' back at me, to indicate everything is fine, or 'ca va bien,' -- I am doing well -- or 'pas mal' -- not bad. I'd also like to hear, en Anglais, if you've ever studied French or another language before and how good you think you are."

He gestured randomly into the group. "Commence."