Fandom High School

It had been inevitable, really. Week after week of feigning sleep as the students arrived had, given that this was Max, virtually guaranteed that one day he'd actually be asleep. His head didn't loll back, and he didn't snore. In fact, he looked pretty much exactly like he did at the beginning of every class. Except that he didn't have his sunglasses on (they were lying on his desk next to a pack of multi-colored sharpie markers) and his eyes were firmly closed. When the last student arrived he sat up abruptly assuming no one rudely awakens him first and looked around in confusion for a moment. Then he figured out where he was and cleared his throat.

"Today your assignment is simple. Each pair of you has picked a task. Today you'll detail that task and how you plan to accomplish it, at least in broad strokes. But most importantly you'll explain what precautions you've taken to avoid officious interference. What measures are you employing to avoid having to ask anyone permission, which tends to take forever to get, or for avoiding other people taking over and wrecking your project?"

He looked over the students. "I'll call each pair up here and you'll explain things. Then, if you want, you're free to question the pair on details of their plans and suggest situations which might cause problems." He was going to call everyone, whether they were there or not, and if people weren't present or dawdled he was going to scowl. Very menacingly. Except without any menace.

As if there had been no interruption the previous week, Max had his feet up on his desk and was leaned back in his chair with his sunglasses on. It was a tremendous relief to have whatever had been going on behind him since he was pretty sure that not teaching class wouldn't fly for too long. Besides, while Fiona wasn't bad, she didn't have nearly his depth of experience when it came to the subject, and Max tended to think that the most qualified available person should teach a subject.

And who was more qualified than himself when it came to slacking?

Once everyone had arrived he sat up abruptly and looked around. "Good to see you all survived my absence last week. As well as whatever weirdness was going on."

"Slacking is, as I hope you've come to realize, one of those subjects which is best learned through experience. No lecture can really impart the knowledge you need to do it effectively." The fact that Max was just plain awful at giving lectures (or staying awake for them, for that matter) had nothing to do with it. Really.

"With that in mind, today's assignment is actually fairly easy. You will get in troups of two or three and come up with a goal. You need to come up with something that you really do want to accomplish, and it needs to be something that will take some effort. This could be cleaning your room, or cleaning your instructor's room, or it could be taking a vacation somewhere nice. The important parts are that it's something you care about and it's something that requires work to do. So find yourselves partners or groups and come up with your goal. Once you come to me and tell me who's in your group and what you want to accomplish you're free to go."

Max paused just long enough that it might seem he was done talking before he spoke up again. "Oh, and while you're planning you should keep one important thing in mind. Whatever your goal, I'll take on the role of supervisor for it. You'll have to use the things we've discussed and practiced here in class in order to accomplish your goal. And pass." He grinned broadly. "Now get to it."

[I'm out of pocket for most of the weekend, but I'll try to answer questions if anyone has any. It's important that everyone work out their team and their goal by next week's class meeting. More on that in the OCD.]

It was possible that students might be noticing a trend with the whole sunglasses on and feet up on the desk thing. But considering that this was only the third week he'd been doing it, it was at least theoretically possible that they weren't. The fact that it was still an act rather than being Max actually taking a nap was something of a small miracle by this point. After all, it was a rather comfortable position and he did tend to be lazy. There was one thing different about this week, though, and that was that Max's feet were actually propped up on an alligator. Said alligator seemed to be snoring. Whether Max had found the alligator there and just decided that the opportunity was too good to pass up, or whether he'd passed it on his way to work, knocked it out, and brought it with him... well, that was anyone's guess.

"So," he began, sitting up abruptly once everyone had arrived, "there's a famous military maxim, one I assume you're all familiar with. 'No your enemy'." He looked around. "Simple and sound advice, really. It turns out that what is true in war is true in most of the rest of your life too, and this is no exception. The most effective way to slack is to understand how those idiots who want you to do stupid things think. Hopefully you can do that without becoming such an idiot yourself."

The alligator on Max's desk stirred and he glanced over at it long enough to frown and bop it soundly on the head hard enough to send it back to its snoring.

He looked around the room thoughtfully. "Now, I'm sure that all of you have been around enough to have encountered at least one person who is precisely the sort of terrible manager that gives rise to slacking, and today you are going to try to get into that person's head. You will devide yourselves into pairs and come up with some sort of goal together. Then you will take turns brainstorming the sorts of instructions an incompetent manager would give which would prevent you from attaining your goal as well as discussiong techniques for working around those instructions."

Max's smile turned amused. "Before you leave, each pair should come tell me what goal it was they decided to work toward." He probably just wanted to know because he was curious. Yeah. That was it. Curious.

Yep.

Max wasn't sure how a class on slacking had gotten scheduled so early in the day, but he found it vaguely amusing, really. He had already located his assigned classroom so that he wouldn't embarrass himself too much by wandering around lost. He even arrived early to class, but that was mostly so that he could prop his feet up on his desk, slip on his sunglasses (they were a great invention, and his trip to Fandom was probably worth it to discover the things even if nothing else came of it), and take a nap. He woke up when the first student arrived, but he didn't give any sign that he had. He wanted a chance to observe them.

Once the count of students matched the list he had been given he spoke without shifting position. "Welcome to Slacking. I am Tribune Antillar Maximus. You may refer to me as 'Tribune' or as 'Maximus' or as 'Max'. I'm not planning on this being too terribly formal." He sat up and slipped off his sunglasses. "That said, you are each here to learn, and I am here to ensure that you do just that. Keep that in mind during our sessions."

He pushed himself to his feet and settled into a relaxed stance, voice falling automatically into the steady cadence of someone who taught people how to stay alive. "The first thing we need to do is establish a shared definition of our subject matter. For the purposes of this course you should understand 'slacking' to refer to the productive avoidance of assignments. I suspect that each of you have found yourself in positions where someone in authority over you is incompetent, stupid, or both. And if you haven't yet, well, it won't be too long. Such situations are an inevitable part of life. When these situatiosn arise you find that you are much better at determining how to accomplish things than your sueprvisor is, and further you find that they tend to give you orders to do things in an inefficient or even counter-productive manner. Slacking allows you to get your incompetent superiors to leave you alone while you get real work done."

Max's gray eyes scanned the room calmly. "Since your incompetent superiors are, in fact, incompetent, they expect work to take far longer than it really does. This, in turn, allows you to spend much of your time relaxing. A successful slacker is able to deflect the attention of their superiors, get their real work done, and do whatever they feel like doing with the rest of their time."

"For today's meeting we're going to keep things simple. State your name and describe a situation from your own life where slacking has been useful, or where it would have been useful if you had been better at it. Then, since I have no desire to waste anyone's time, you're free to do as you wish. Talk to one another, talk to me, leave..." He shrugged his massive shoulders. "Oh, and if anyone is interested, I am looking for an assistant for this class."

[The assistant position is actually open here, so if anyone is interested feel free to chime in.]