FAST TIMES AT SD HIGH
The Duchess of Zeon
Spanky the Dolphin
With References To
episode.setTitle ("Chardok's Mom");
"Good morning, sir," said the El Tee. "How was your weekend?"
Stravo glared at his subordinate. "I didn't get laid this weekend. That hasn't happened in thirteen years. Do you know why?"
"I couldn't imagine, sir."
"Because I spent ALL NIGHT SATURDAY reading books at Superintendent Sanchez's house! And do you know whose fault that is?"
"YOURS! You set me up, you son of a bitch!"
"Sir, permission to speak freely, sir."
Stravo sighed. "Go ahead."
"Sir, with all due respect, I did nothing of the kind. The incident at the assembly was entirely unforseen."
"I'll bet. Did you at least catch those stoner assholes?"
"Yes sir, I did. But it turns out, all they had on them was a bag of oregano. They claimed it was a prop, and there's nothing I could do about it."
"What about Gauner, then? Is he actually claiming that clusterfuck was deliberate?"
"Yes sir, he is."
"He's rather embarassed by the whole incident, sir. He insists that there was an actual drug deal going down, but he can't prove it."
"So we can't even punish anybody."
"Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck." He slumped down in his chair and pulled the flask out from the drawer. You're all I have left, my precious.
"Sir, I have the list of subs for the day. Do you want to see it?"
Stravo shrugged. If it would get the El Tee out of his office, he was all for it. Hitman placed it on his desk and returned to attention.
"Dismissed, Hitman. Oh, and you know what? Punish everybody who was on stage at the assembly for general incompetence." said Stravo. The El Tee saluted, spun around sharply, and marched out. He had somebody to torment besides Stravo now.
Stravo started flipping through the list. Sunnyvale West had a horrible time finding substitutes. The ones they got were usually defective in some way. "Just like our regular staff," said Stravo.
A name caught his eye on the third page. "No, it can't be." He checked the stat sheet that came with the report, just to make sure it was the same woman.
A huge grin that had nothing to do with Jim Beam spread across his face. He closed his eyes and reminisced, about one lovely spring afternoon when he'd thrown Aerius and Jmac out of the humping closet so he and the hottest substitute in the known galaxy could make use of it. Her reputation had, unfortunately, spread to the school board, and the fact her son went here didn't help her chances. From what he'd heard, she was out of the district, but apparently times had gotten desparate.
Stravo capped the flask and put it away. He decided it was time for a walking inspection of the school. His teachers needed his support.
Especially Ms. Chardok.
Lieu Lieu Lieu, I've got some apples. Lieu Lieu Lieu, you've got some too. Kernel couldn't get South Park's Butters' idiotic tune out of his head. This is going to be in my head all day, he thought. Normally he wasn't up this early, but for some reason, he felt especially brisk this morning. So he got up and decided to walk to school early and just hang out for 45 minutes before class. Maybe interesting things went on before classes started that no one knew about.
The course from his house to school took him through the mostly empty parking lot. No one was really here yet ... except ... Is that Debi's car? He studied the car in front of him more closely. I think it is! The driver-side door opened, and it was most certainly Debi getting out. Come on, just say "Hey Debi"; it's not hard. He walked toward her, and waved, which didn't do much good, since her beautifully skirt-framed ass was facing him.
"Hey, Debi!" He said. She turned her head and spied him over her left shoulder. He could just barely see her lips sneaking over her collar. As soon as she realized it was him, she spun around and sent her blonde hair swirling around her head. A few strands were caught in her mouth as she smiled at him. He saw her mouth open to form the single syllable of the word "Hey." Then he saw her car's tail lights. Then the asphalt, as it slammed into his face. He didn't know what those big concrete things that were put in parking spaces were, but he tripped on one.
Debi rushed over to him. "Oh God, are you okay?" She asked. He propped himself up on his arms and tilted his freshly-gritted face up toward her.
"Of course. Why wouldn't I be? It's just my pride," he said. She put her hand to her mouth as she giggled. He got to his feet.
"It's okay. Happens to the best of us," she reassured him. She brushed off some pebbles from his shirt and straightened it out for him. "There, now no one will ever know."
"Thanks," he said. "I owe you for that. My mom's not here to make me look presentable, so I dunno what I would've done," he said with a sly smile. She laughed.
"So what're you doing here so early?" She asked, moving to the front of her car and sitting on the hood.
"Well," he began, taking the seat next to her. "I'm not sure. I woke up early for some reason and couldn't get back to sleep. So I decided to just come here early. There's some sort of appeal about being in school and not actually in school, you know?" She looked at him, confused.
"Well, no, I don't know, but I'm sure that you did, so that's all that matters," she said. He looked down, dejectedly.
"My mom says I'm cool," he said in a mock-Milhouse voice. She smiled and chuckled.
"It's okay. I think you're cool," touching her hand lightly on his thigh. He felt his face flush. Calm down. Her hand is only inches away from your penis. Calm down. He changed the subject quickly.
"So, what about you? Are you always here this early?"
"Yeah, pretty much. It gives me time to read. Marina and all them don't get here until about five minutes before first period."
"So how'd you get to be friends with Marina anyway?"
"She and I went to grade school together, and well I dunno, we just kind of grew closer over the years," she explained.
"Yeah? So you've both been here all your lives?"
"Well, she moved here when she was in fifth grade, so she had a kind of hard time making friends, you know? New school and all."
"So you two just hit it off?" Why is he so interested in my friendship with Marina?
"Yeah, I guess. We both sort of sat alone at lunch, reading. One day, I saw her reading Dante's Inferno at lunch, and it turns out that she'd checked out the last copy from the library, which made me kind of mad. But when I started talking to her, we got along really well, and she let me have it right after she was done with it," Debi said.
"You read Dante's Inferno in fifth grade?"
"Yeah, but I didn't really get it until I read it again a couple years back," she said. Finally, he stopped talking about Marina.
"So get any other interesting reads from Marina?"
Dammit. What is it with guys and lesbians?
"Yeah ... she recommended Julius Caesar, The Conquest of Gaul, but I thought it was really, really boring. She's a big military history buff."
"Really? That's interesting."
"What? Girls can't be interested in military history?"
"No, it's not that. It's just interesting. Not something you see every day, you know?"
"I guess ..." She said.
"So ... when did she, well, um, you know ... realize that she was a lesbian?" He asked. She seemed taken aback by the question.
"Why are guys so interested in lesbians?" She asked, exasperated.
"Well I dunno ... we just kind of are, I guess," he said, struggling frantically to get the conversation flying smoothly again. He might as well have tried using Wile E. Coyote physics to catch the Road Runner.
"No seriously, what is this fascination? You don't see me fawning all over Dale because he's gay, do you?"
"Well, no, but it's not the same."
"What's so different about it?"
"Lesbians are hot. Gay guys are ... well, not," he said. Good job, dumb-ass. She sighed, got up from her seat and began walking toward the school.
"Debi! Wait!" Kernel called after her and got up from the hood. She didn't even turn toward him to brush him off.
"I'm sorry, Kernel. I'm not a lesbian, so there's no reason you'd want to talk to me." He stopped in his tracks.
"What did I say?"
"I don't get why she's so mad," said Kernel. "All I wanted was to know how long you guys have been friends."
"And if I've ever gone muff diving on her," said Marina.
"What?! No, I never said anything like that!"
"She was trying to talk to you, and all you wanted to talk about was me. How did you think she was going to take that?"
Kernel sighed. "How should I know? I swear to God, I was just curious. It had nothing to do with lesbianism or anything else."
"The fact remains," said Marina, "that a pretty girl put her hand on your thigh and you took that as your cue to start talking about another pretty girl. What does that make you?"
Marina beamed. "Exactly!"
"Great. Now what do I do?"
Mark and Joe sauntered up. "You could go punch Hellenberg again," said Joe. "That seems to make you popular with all the ladies." He was joking, but there was something in his tone that unsettled the Kernel. He couldn't exactly place it and wrote it off as being upset over what had happened with Debi.
"I'd like to avoid another trip to the El Tee's dungeon if I could," said Kernel. "Any other ideas?"
"Have you considered castration? More blood for the brain that way," said Mark.
"Sex change," said Marina. "Then you won't just have to talk about lesbians anymore."
"Funny," said Kernel. "You guys should write an advice column, what with being pricks and all."
"Well, I'd hate to hide my light under a bushel," said Marina.
Debi walked up to the group. The conversation suddenly tailed off.
"What?" she said.
"Kernel here was just explaining how to woo a girl. He has a whole technique," said Marina.
"Really? Does that technique include yammering like a horny idiot about the girl's gay friends?"
"The very same," said Marina.
"He didn't say it was a good technique," added Mark.
Debi harumphed. The Kernel wished very much that he could turn invisible. The others were having a great deal of fun at his expense.
The merriment was interrupted by a commotion coming down the hall.
"Ah, shit," said Joe.
"What?" said Kernel.
"Chardok," said Mark.
A group of about seven or eight boys with letter jackets were rushing up the hall. In the middle stood a six and a half foot ape-man with a crew cut. He was built like a tank and was just about as smart. It was Biff Chardok.
Chardok spotted the group and a big, evil grin spread across his face. He sauntered over their way, dismissing his crew as he went. Kernel look around and saw the rest of his gang was giving him dirty looks, so he decided to do the same.
"Well hey guys! What's shakin'?"
"Go away," said Debi.
"Sounds like someone needs to change her pad. Hey Joey! Still a virgin?"
"Hey Biff," said Joe. "Still stupid?"
"Hey fuck you, okay? I'm just being friendly here. How about you get Dale to pop your cherry for you? I hear he'd be glad to do it. Unless you're saving yourself for Mark. Hey, is this the kid who messed up Hellenberg?"
Kernel shrugged. "Yeah, that's me."
"How hard did you have to suck Stravo's cock to get away with that?"
"I had your mom do it for me. I think I'm going to get an A in all my classes now."
Chardok's mean, dumb face turned dark with anger. "You've got a pretty smart mouth for a new kid."
"And you've got a pretty dumb head," said Kernel. He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. Kernel braced for Biff to take a swing at him.
Instad, Biff just laughed. "Shit, man, you'll fit right in here." He looked around to make sure nobody was listening, then leaned in close to Kernel and whispered: "You should join the chess club."
"Why?" said Kernel.
"Because they'd love to have you." Kernel just stood there, waiting for the rest of the punchline.
"Is that it?" he said. "That's the whole joke?"
"No joke. The Great Leader would--shit, I've said too much."
Kernel started backing away from him. "Whatever you say, man."
"Biff, don't you have a waterboy to cornhole or something? Get the fuck out of here," said Marina.
"Hey, babe, if I wanted lip from you, I'd drop my pants."
Marina's bright green eyes frosted over. "What did you just say to me?"
"You heard me. I think you need some dick. Your box is so tight you put a quarter up there the eagle will scream."
Marina was more than half a foot shorter and sixty pounds lighter than Chardok, and a girl besides. So neither he nor anyone else expected it when she drove her elbow into his solar plexus. He reeled backwards and she loosed a kick as his right knee. It connected and he fell hard to the ground.
It happened so fast nobody had time to react. A crowd of spectators didn't even form up.
"Jesus Marina!" said Debi.
"Did I just see that?" said Mark.
"Is he alright?" said Kernel.
Biff staggered to his feet, holding clutching his gut. "Jesus Christ! Someone's fucking touchy." He straightened up as best he could, trying to hide the fact he was gasping for air. "You're lucky that didn't hurt," he said.
"Want me to try again?" said Marina in a perfectly conversational tone of voice?
Chardok managed a grin. "You just want to touch me." The grin evaporated when Marina's right hand curled up into a fist.
"Okay, okay, fine!" He backed away from her until he reached what he thought was a safe distance, then tried to saunter away as best he could on one good leg.
"Wow," said Kernel.
"That was so hot," said Joe. The other boys nodded. Marina beamed.
Debi just rolled her eyes.
Mark looked at his watch. The five minute rule was getting very close to coming into effect. This was extremely strange, considering that Mr. Kuroneko was never late. Ever. For anything. Though he did have a tendency to take extremely long vacations. Rumor has it that, in his first 30 years as a teacher, he never took any sick or vacation days, so for his last 20, he was making good use of them. He'd probably gotten the job equivalent of roll-over minutes on his contract, which was hardly surprising. When a Berkeley magna cum laude holding a PhD in mathematics tells you he wants to teach high schoolers at your school, you tend not to argue with his terms.
But he must have taken one of his famous, mysterious sabbaticals. That meant a substitute teacher. Which meant nothing of consequence would happen today. Which meant that he could just fall aslee--
Oh. My. God. He could've turned the lights off and brought a disco ball to school, and their classroom would've been transformed into a strip club, the woman walking into the room providing the most essential part of the metamorphosis. She wore a women's business suit with the black skirt subtly defying the normal "two inches above the knee" rule. The black halter-vest left her smooth back exposed and framed her well-endowed bust perfectly. Her figure was exquisite, a perfect complement to the thin face framed with horn-rimmed glasses that befitted an office secretary. Her blonde hair, probably normally wild and free across her shoulders, was done up in a bun, just begging to be released by a horny 17 year-old high school student.
Mrs. Chardok was subbing for Mr. Kuroneko. As much as Mark liked a good show, he'd heard enough rumors about the sultry substitute that, statistically, there simply had to be truth to them. He had his standards. Don't go lusting after Principal Stravo's sloppy seconds, he told himself. Again and again, as she spun on one of her multi-inch heels to face the class.
"Hello, everyone," she said in a Dixie-land voice. The only responses audible were the droplets of drool from male students' mouths hitting the floor. Had the boys not been so fixated on Mrs. Chardok, they might have noticed the girls' responses, namely the rolling of eyes.
She lightly picked up a piece of chalk and began writing her name on the board in elegant script. "For those of you who don't know me, my name is Ms. Chardok. I'll be subbing for Mr. Kuroneko's class today." The introduction was largely unnecessary. "So, let's take roll," she said, picking up the attendance sheet and calling out names. "Mark Berger." Mark perked up.
"Um, here," he said, confirming his presence.
"Ah, there you are," she said coyly. "Mm ... Mark. Such a nice name. Rolls off the tongue very nicely." She licked her lips as she finished the sentence. He sank into his seat, more than a little embarrassed. She finished the roll call.
"Now, Mr. Kuroneko gave me a worksheet to give out and said that you can spend the class doing it. She began distributing the worksheets. Mark was sitting up front, and she gave him a little wink through her glasses as she handed him a pile to pass back and made sure to flex her buttocks as she moved on to the next row. Mark began trying his damnedest to start working the problems on the sheet. Every so often he'd look up to find the sultry substitute eyeing him and making sure to smile when his eyes met hers, at which point he'd quickly look back down and begin scribbling on his worksheet.
Ms. Chardok gracefully rose from her seat behind the desk. "I have to use the ladies room, so while I'm away ... let's see ..."
Oh Jesus God don't say my name, Mark thought fervently.
"Mark, you'll be in charge," she said, pointing a long, red nail in his direction, which matched her red lipstick perfectly. Red lipstick. Red lips. Red smiling lips. Oh God she's smiling at me! Look down you fool! His head obeyed, with his eyes putting up stiff resistance.
"Um ... kay," he said.
"Be back in a few," she said, making her delicious exit. The minute her fine legs vanished from view, every male head in the class shot a glance directly at him. Gil Hamilton spoke and so represented the combined will of every penis in the room.
"Mark. Dude. She. Wants. You," Gil said slowly, making sure that Mark was digesting he information. Mark looked at him with wide eyes.
"No fucking way, Gil. I'm not hounding after Stravo's sloppy seconds! His name is probably inscribed on her vulva, for fuck's sake!" The words didn't register in Gil's brain, most likely because its functions had been superseded by Commander Phallus. Mark could see it now, the penis assuming command ...
Commander Phallus strode on to the bridge. Captain Brain whirled around. He was expecting this. They always had it out whenever the eyes reported a hot piece of ass at 12 o'clock.
"Captain, I'm taking command of this vessel," Phallus said with words as confident as his stride.
"You can't do that Phallus! We're ... we're in the middle of class! You can't handle it!" Brain protested vainly.
"The eyes and ears have briefed me on the situation, Captain. It's a substitute teacher, which falls under my jurisdiction, and you know it," Phallus said smugly. Phallus motioned to Lieutenant Prostate. "Take him away, Lieutenant." Prostate moved toward the captain threateningly.
"You're not gonna get away with this," Brain said, defiant as Prostate escorted him off the bridge.
"Take it up with my balls."
"Mark!" Gil pulled him from his idiotic daydream. Mark shook his head. "You're not listening to me! The hottest substitute teacher on the East Coast wants to have sex with you!"
"I don't care! I have standards for Christ's sake!"
"Mark, please! Don't pass this up!" Gil pleaded.
"No! Leave me alone! I'm supposed to be in charge here, whatever that means."
"Come on, Mark. Fuck her ... for me. Fuck her for all of us."
"Dude, for the last fucking time, no!" Gil raised his pleading voice to a demanding yell that echoed through the halls.
"Mark, if you don't fuck that woman, I will kill myself!" Mark's face turned red like the ass of a freshly disciplined child living in the Bronx during the 1950s. There was an audible sigh from one of the girls. Carrie, Mark believed her name was. Not that he was thinking of that right now.
"Oh Christ, Gil, leave Mark alone," she said, more exasperated than anything. Just then, the Phallic Collective's object of desire came swaggering back in the room.
"Oh good. Everything just as I left it," she observed. "Mark, was someone yelling in here?"
"Um, uh, no ma'am," he stuttered.
"Mmm, a man who can maintain order," she purred. "You know, that's a very desirable trait." She flashed him a smile and sat back down at her desk.
Mark struggled through the rest of the period, doing his best to resist Ms. Chardok's advances. Just remember, you don't want anything to do with any orifice that spits out something like Biff Chardok.
The bell rang. Finally. Marked let out a mental sigh of relief. He was on his way out the door when he heard the dreaded words.
"Oh, Mark, I need to see you after class for a couple of minutes." Mark stopped in his tracks. Gil strode past him and slapped him on the shoulder.
"Go get 'er, buddy," Gil said, slipping something into his shirt's front pocket. Mark looked down and saw a Trojan condom.
"Dammit Gil!" He said through clenched teeth. Gil had already taken off. After a moment's hesitation, he slowly turned around.
"Uh ... what's this about?" She smiled at him seductively.
"Just take a seat." The room was now totally empty, and the door was closed. He sat down ... in a seat near the back corner on the entrance wall. She maneuvered through the desks to stand in front on him.
"I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciated you looking after the class for me while I was gone," she said in a deep voice. She posted both arms on his desk, leaning down and giving him a world-class view of her cleavage. He could see the little white clasp of her bra holding the two cups together, and Commander Phallus' mutiny was gaining momentum.
Her right hand lightly grasped his tie and traced down it, gently pulling him toward her. Her words came through as sweet whispers. "I just hope there's some way I can ... show you how much it meant to me."
With his mouth gaping open, Mark couldn't form a coherent syllable, much less word. Her intoxicating scent lightly danced inside his nostrils, giving Commander Phallus some needed reinforcement. Get out of there, you fool! He was paralyzed. Her lips approached his, opened just widely enough to allow the tip of her tongue to protrude. Just as her lips were about to touch his, Captain Brain made one last-ditch attempt to suppress the coup, an effort that materialized as two words in his brain.
His legs kicked into action, and he bolted upright. He leapt over the desk to his right and sprinted toward the front of the room, skidding as he negotiated the hard, ninety-degree turn out the door.
Ms. Chardok sighed. "Well shit."
A paper airplane flew across the table. None of the group assembled paid it any attention; they were just thankful it wasn't a knife or hammer. Marina was the only one who really seemed herself. Joe was in a pissy mood and glaring a lot, Mark was nervously looking around, Kernel looked confused and guilty, and Debi looked pissed.
Marina knew what this meant. Well, it has been a long time since I had to listen to everyone's crap on the same day, she thought. She loved being a lesbian, but sometimes she thought that it made her too stable. Since she was a lesbian (and a very successful one), others naturally assumed she knew a lot about women. And also because of this, perversely, others assumed that she knew a bit about men as well. After all, she would've had to date a few of them in order to reject the penis out of hand.
Marina considered her options. She could talk to Joe, and put up with his lusting after Debi, she could talk to Kernel or Debi and put up with their awkwardness, or she could talk to ... Mark. Dear old Mark. She had no idea what was troubling him, and she was eager to find out. Few things, if any, ever got him as flustered as she saw him now.
"So, Mark ... who's about to stab you in the back?"
"Huh?" Mark said.
"Why are you looking over your shoulder?" Marina clarified.
"Oh ... uh, no one in particular," he lied, unconvincingly.
"Okay fine. It is bullshit," he admitted. "But I don't want to talk about it right now."
"Mark, come on. I've never seen you this flustered over anything."
"I told you, I--" Mark was cut off by Gil's sudden fanatical appearance.
"Mark, you fucked her. Tell me you fucked her!" He yelled, slamming his hands on their lunch table on the space between Marina and Joe, across from Mark.
"Gil," Mark began. "FUCK OFF!"
"I can't believe you didn't fuck her. You fucking pussy, I want my Trojan back!" Gil yelled.
"I didn't say I didn't fuck her; I told you to fuck off!" Mark yelled back.
"Fuck you! No one fucks Ms. Chardok and is in as shitty a mood as you are. Now gimme my fucking Trojan back!" Mark pulled the prophylactic out of his shirt's front pocket and threw it at Gil.
"There! Now put it back in your back pocket before its imprint on your ass starts wearing out!" Gil picked the incarnation of his prom night dream off the floor and walked off.
Marina looked at Mark again. "So, Mark ..." She began.
"Fine! Ms. Chardok propositioned me after class, and I turned her down," he said. Marina let that sink in.
"Wait ... Ms. Chardok is subbing today? For what classes?"
"Who's Ms. Chardok?" Kernel asked. "She's not related to that Biff guy, is she?"
"Yeah," Joe said. "She's his mom. His incredibly hot mom."
Debi piped up. "She's not a lesbian, so you wouldn't be interested," she torpedoed Kernel. He blinked his eyes and shook his head slightly, still not believing that she could make such a huge deal out of his remarks. Joe allowed a little smirk to cross his face.
Marina decided it would be best to stay away from that little bundle of anger for the time-being. "Mark, are you telling me that Ms. Chardok kept you after class and tried to seduce you?"
"Yes, that's exactly what happened, and now you know. Can we drop it?" Kernel jumped in.
"So a woman who is allegedly incredibly hot is responsible for Biff?" He asked, very surprised.
"There are theories in the works to explain this observation," Joe said. "It's eminently possible that Biff was adopted, spawned at the bottom of a river or that he simply congealed in a gutter somewhere."
"I see. I think."
Mark suddenly froze. There was a tap on his shoulder, and a scent teasing his nose. Oh shit, she doesn't give up. He looked over his shoulder, and there was the steaming-hot substitute.
"Um ... yes?" He asked like ... well, like a 17 year-old with a beautiful woman hanging over his shoulder.
"Mark, have you or any of your friends seen my son around? I just heard you mention his name, and thought maybe you'd seen him recently."
"Uh ... no ma'am," Mark said.
"Well, it's lunch time, so he might be picking fleas off the other apes' backs right about now," Debi said. Her vitriol was apparently not staying confined to Kernel. Ms. Chardok ignored her and looked at Marina.
"My, you have gorgeous hair!" She said. "Is it naturally red?" Marina took the compliment in stride. Joe and Mark would have to keep waiting for the day they'd see her actually blush.
"Why yes, it is," she said smoothly. "Thank you for noticing."
"Oh you have to tell me what treatment you're using," Ms. Chardok said.
Thank fucking God, Mark thought.
Debi and Marina wisely decided to sit in the back on Mr. Wilson's history class. The way they figured it, they were doing him a favor by putting their breasts out of his immediate view. Rob Wilson's status at the school hung very tenuously between "FIRED" and "NOT FIRED."
Occasionally, a girl would complain about his lecherous behavior, but nothing ever stuck. Mr. Wilson was certainly a pervert, but he made sure that all of the more well-endowed ladies in his class came out with A's with little to no effort. So whenever anyone complained, all the other girls in the class would become tight-lipped. They weren't sacrificing their easy A's so that a girl with no appreciation for the power of her two wonderful gifts from God Himself could drag a poor old lecher like Mr. Wilson in front of a judge.
Hm, Marina and Debi are in the back today. Too bad, Mr. Wilson thought to himself. He'd taken one of his frequent pauses during his lecture to call on a student to answer some bullshit question he made up on the spot. He scanned the room. "Maya, can you tell us why musket barrels were so long in the Civil War?"
Maya, a disastrously cute female with straight, shoulder-length, light brown hair and blue eyes, leaned forward in her seat, giving him a fairly decent view down her shirt, whose top three buttons weren't clasped. Oh, no undershirt today, Mr. Wilson observed. Hm, black lace bra, front clasp ... looks like the lace Miracle Bra. Fall 2003 Victoria's Secret sale, he deduced. 34-B, if my eyes serve me right.
And they damn well should. He was an ex-Marine Corps sniper and had eyes like a hawk. Being an American history teacher at a high school allowed him to partake in his two favorite activities, staring at young girls' breasts and talking about guns, both at the same time. He couldn't think of a better way to spend his life post-military.
Somewhere along the line, he'd developed an underwear fetish. He had every Victoria's Secret catalogue ever printed since 1996 stacked in a closet in his house, which was fast running out of room. Not only did he look at them, but he memorized the descriptions. Snipers tended to have a sort of attention to detail that most normal people couldn't understand.
"Uh," Maya began. She tossed her hair lightly to one side and exposed her neck, much to his delight. "Because the barrels weren't rifled and the musket ball wouldn't go very straight once out of the barrel?"
Marina leaned over to Debi. "I think Maya just turned him on," she said.
"No shit. She's talking about rifled barrels and giving him a first-class view of her cleavage," Debi said back.
"As opposed to the economy-class view of yours that you give Kernel?" Marina asked. Debi shot her a glaring look.
"What's that supposed to mean?" She spat. Mr. Wilson was continuing his lecture and not paying any attention to the girls whose breasts were out of range.
"Kernel and I were talking just before Biff showed up in the hall," Marina said.
"I think you're being too hard on him, like with that little shot you fired across his bow at lunch."
"He deserved it! All he's interested in is you!"
"Oh don't be silly. He's plenty interested in you. He's just a boy, and sweetie, you don't understand boys. They're stupid," Marina explained.
"So what does any of this have to do with my cleavage?" Debi asked.
"Kernel's mind might wander during the course of conversation to topics you don't want it go go," Marina said. "Maybe giving him a little peek of first-class would keep his mind on you." Debi was taken aback.
"So I should flash him so he'll stay interested?"
"No, not flash. Just tease a little."
"That's degrading," Debi said with disgust. "I'm not going to go all slutty just so Kernel keeps paying attention to me."
"Oh stop making it sound so bad. You're just teasing him, not hopping his stock," Marina said.
Suddenly a few choice words from Marina caught his ears. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard, "hopping his stock" from the well-known lesbian. Very interesting, Mr. Wilson thought. Too bad she was all the way in the back. Even so, he decided to pick on her. She may be a lesbian, but she knows her military history.
"Marina, can you tell me which Confederate vessel the North turned into an iron-clad?" Marina looked up from whispering to Debi.
"The North never captured a Confederate vessel and turned it into an iron-clad," Marina said. "The South, however, captured the U.S.S. Merrimac and rebuilt it as an iron-clad, re-christening it the C.S.S. Virginia. Is that what you were referring to?"
"Ah, yes, of course," he said. He was sorely tempted to ask her out for a drink, despite any such attempt being doomed to failure. He was almost disappointed that he couldn't give her a higher grade than an A. Her beautiful breasts gave her plenty of extra credit.
He scanned over the class again. His eyes landed straight on the innocent-until-proven-guilty Homecoming queen, Zaia, who was currently stretching her stomach and shoulders in her seat. Her long red hair had landed on the desk of the fellow sitting behind her. The arching of her back pressed her thin white shirt against her, and he got a clear outline of her bra. Red, satin, seamless underlined demi-bra. Second-Skin Satin collection from Victoria's Secret. 36-B ... no wait, they're being pressed from the stretch. Must be at least a 34-C.
"And Zaia, what was the North's iron-clad's name?" He asked. Zaia finished her extreme stretch with a little squeak that would've made someone think there was a cute puppy in the room.
"The Monitor," she said confidently with a slight twitch in her pointed nose.
Marina turned back to Debi. "See?" She whispered. "Tease, and good things come your way." Debi still wasn't buying it.
"I shouldn't have to entertain his lechery just to get a decent conversation out of him," she said.
"Oh you need to lighten up about this whole subject. Men and men, and you're just not lucky enough to be a lesbian. You're going to have to deal with it sooner or later, and Kernel's a pretty nice guy anyway," Marina said. "Trust me, just give it a shot, and you'll notice a big difference."
"I don't like it," Debi said begrudgingly.
"Oh come on dear. It'll be fun. Just unbutton the top two buttons on your blouse and give him a little peek. Nothing too distracting, just enough to keep his focus on you." Debi sighed. Marina's advice had never before led her astray, however. She had to credit her with that.
"Fine," she said.
"Okay, and today we're going to end on--" Mr. Wilson stopped abruptly. Is Debi unbuttoning her blouse?!
Mark walked out of his last class feeling like he'd been carrying a giant sandbag on each shoulder all day, and he'd just dropped them. In ten minutes, I'm out of this funhouse. Jesus, she's crazy. He peeked around corners tenatively as he walked towards his locker, hoping to avoid the strumpet. Maybe I should have--NO! Stravo's sloppy seconds, Stravo's sloppy seconds! Though it occured to him he had no idea if Stravo had actually hit it with her. For all he really knew, the only time she'd ever had sex before was when Biff had been conceived, and there was always a chance he'd just escaped from the zoo and she took him in.
I wish she'd fucked Joe. Maybe he wouldn't be such a whiny bitch over Debi then. He felt guilty as soon as he thought it. If he'd been in Joe's situation, he probably wouldn't have been happy with how things had gone, either. Though there was always a chance the Kernel would talk himself right into a hole and never climb out, and the status quo would be restored.
Still, he shouldn't be such a whiny bitch.
He reached his locker. To his relief, she wasn't there waiting for him. Better hurry, she might be looking for me.
Someone tapped his shoulder while he was digging for his books. He jumped and banged his head on the locker door frame.
"You fucker!" he spat when he saw it had been Joe.
"What the fuck crawled up your ass and died? Are you still pissing and moaning because a hot teacher wants to fuck you? You poor guy."
"Suck my balls. Which one of us has been blubbering about Debi all week?"
"Actually, I'm cool about all that."
"The hell you are."
"I am. I was thinking about it today, and I got over it."
"It wouldn't have anything to do with the fact she's mad at him, would it?"
"Of course not," said Joe. The lie was so transparent Mark didn't even bother pointing it out. And then the conversation halted right there because Kernel arrived.
"Hey guys," he said without much enthusiasm.
"Hey," they mumbled in return.
"What a lousy day," said Kernel.
"Yep," said Joe, who thought it was the finest day he'd had in weeks.
"Guys, you've both known Debi for a while, right? When she gets mad, how long does she stay mad?"
Mark looked at Joe, who seemed to be looking at nothing in particular. "I don't know," said Mark, cautiously. "About the same as usual, I guess."
"Great," said Kernel.
"Well, this should cheer you up," said Mark, pointing at someone coming down the hall. Kernel turned around and groaned. It was Biff and his posse.
"It was a lead pipe and Crackpot busted his arms and legs with it. Stravo had to pull him off when he started on Shirtless's ribs, and that's where he got the black eye" said the one walking side by side with him, a junior called Beowulf who played on the football team with Chardok...and was carrying a chessboard under one arm.
"Bullshit," said Chardok. "Shirtless messed up his face with a hammer. He sprained his ankle running after him when Crackpot tried to get away." He spotted the three boys. "Hey! That dude right there, that's the guy I want you to meet." He and Beowulf went over to Kernel while the others continued on.
"Go away Biff," said Joe.
"Can't you be nice to me for two minutes? You're really starting to...." he sobbed once, "hurt my feelings!" He sniffled for good measure.
"Really?" said Joe.
"Yeah, really.....but your mom will make me feel better!" He guffawed at his own wit.
"That's real ironic coming from you," said Mark.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Beowulf, who apparently did know what it meant, looked suddenly uncomfortable.
"Don't worry about it," said Kernel, who didn't want to start a fight with two football players without Marina around. Where is she? he thought. "What do you want?"
"I want to remind you about the offer."
"What offer?! To join the chess club!"
Kernel started backing away from him. He's a lot more enthusiastic about chess than he should be. "Why do I need an offer to join the chess club?"
"Because the Great--" Beowulf suddenly smacked him in the back of his head "Because only the club president can invite people in."
"They can't be that exclusive if they invited you," said Mark.
"Okay, great," said Kernel. "Thanks for the offer, guys, but I'm not a big chess fan."
Chardok looked about ready to say something else, but Debi arrived at that moment. She shot him a dirty look, but only a cursory one. Instead, she went right to the Kernel.
"Hey," she said. She leaned against the locker in front of him. "Listen, I think I owe you an apology. I realize that when you said those insensitive, idiotic, disgraceful things this morning, it wasn't because you're an insesnitive, idiotic, disgraceful dolt, but because testosterone causes some sort of incurable brain disease in all men, and I shouldn't get mad at you for being stupid about girls any more than I should get mad at a paraplegic for being bad at hopscotch. I need you to understand that you can't act like that around me again, because that would show you're not trying, but the first time, you couldn't have known. You were like a baby given a fork and placed in a room full of electrical outlets, and I shouldn't have been surprised you went and hurt yourself. You're a fundamentally good person at heart and I think you're trying your best. You're still an idiot, but you're a very well meaning one, and I forgive you, and I hope you can do the same."
"Uh huh," said Kernel. She's got some great tits. I can't believe she forgot to button that last button. Debi saw the glazed look in his eyes and smiled broadly.
"That was beautiful," said Biff. "I really mean that." Debi glanced at him curiously. "You've got really nice clevage," he added.
She heaved an enormous sigh and buttoned the top button. Kernel and Mark looked very disappointed. Joe was too busy looking like he'd been kicked in the face, but nobody was paying any attention to him.
"Where's Marina when you need her?" she said. Chardok flinched at the mention of her name, but relaxed when he realized she wasn't there.
"Come to think of it," said Mark, "Where is Marina? I haven't seen her since lunch."
"Last I saw her was history," said Debi. She frowned. "That's odd, I usually run into her before last bell. And she's never this late."
"I haven't seen her," said Kernel. "How about you Joe?"
"How the fuck should I know where she is?" snapped Joe.
"Just asking," said Kernel. Who the hell shit in his cereal?
"Well, it's not like we've got a bus to miss," said Mark.
"Yeah, but I don't want to wait around here for her all day," said Kernel. He was looking directly at Debi as he said that.
"We'll just give her a few more minutes," said Debi, looking at Kernel.
"She's probably off dyking it up," said Biff. Everyone ignored him.
It was late and the hall had mostly cleared out, so they could hear running feet approaching them clearly. It was Aerius and Jennifer, and they weren't approaching them so much as they were the janitor's closet at the end of the row of lockers across the hall. Jennifer, who swam for the school team and was much bigger and stronger than Aerius, was practically dragging him by the arm, not that he needed much encouragement.
Jennifer grabbed the closet doorknob, intending to yank the door open and toss Aerius inside. Instead, she pulled up short and nearly fell as it didn't budge. She let go of Aerius, who was off balance and did fall.
"What the fuck," she said.
"Trouble?" asked Kernel from across the hall.
"This door is never locked! You don't lock the fuck closet. That's a rule."
"Unless you're in the fuck closet," said Mark.
"Well, yeah. But who's in the fuck closet now?" Jennifer started rattling the doorknob and pounding on the door. "Time's up! Comeon, Goddammit, it's not a motel room!"
The entire group crossed the hall to get a better look at the closet's occupants when the door opened. Debi stood close to Kernel and leaned into him slightly.
Jmac pounded the door again. "Open up!"
There was a muffled female voice from the other side, and then the lock clicked. The door swung open slowly, and a sweaty, disheveled redhead stumbled out still adjusting her blouse.
"Marina?!" gasped Debi.
"Hello everyone," she said, as casually as if they'd caught her reading the Sunday New York Times.
"I told you she was dyking it up!" said Biff. Marina turned his way and suddenly Chardok looked tense, but all she did was grin languidly.
"You had to have been adopted," she said.
"What does that mean?" he said.
"Biff? Honey?" came a voice from the closet. Everybody except Marina froze. Horror slowly crept across Biff's face.
"No. No no no no no no."
"Yes," said Marina, as Mrs. Chardok stepped out of the closet, also sweaty and disheveled, with her skirt on backwards.
"Biff, sweetie, I can explain. Sometimes, you see, mommies get a little lonely, and they need to be touched in a special way that only women can do."
"SCORE ONE FOR THE REDHEADED BABE!" exclaimed Beowulf.
"SHUT UP!" Biff covered his ears and ran down the hall.
"Wait Biff!" cried Mrs. Chardok, running after him.
"Wait!" said Marina. "You forgot your...." she shrugged and tossed the lacy black thong she'd been holding behind her.
"Am I allowed to be turned on by this?" said Kernel to Debi.
"I think I'm turned on by this," said Debi.
"This is the best day EVER," said Mark.
"Yeah, great," muttered Joe.
"You're my hero, Marina," said Kernel.
Marina had a brush out and was fixing her hair back. "I know."
Spanky wandered up the empty hall feeling sad and useless. So many scofflaws, so many contemptible vermin, and I haven't caught anyone for anything more serious than a dress code violation. He rubbed the material of his sash between his thumb and forefinger and sighed.
"I'm not fit for the sash," he said out loud. "I had a drug dealer and two potheads in my sights and they got away."
Maybe it's time to face facts. Maybe you should turn in the sash. He'd had thoughts like that before and had brushed them off. Now, though.... He sighed again. Up ahead, he noticed someone had left the janitor's closet door open.
The cleaning crew doesn't get to this hall until much later, he thought. That meant students had been fooling around in there, which meant dangerous chemicals might have been taken or valuable property damaged. He brightened slightly. I can compare the contents to what the inventory sheet says should be in there. I might discover evidence of a serious crime. Then he sighed and shook his head. He realized what closet that was--it was the fuck closet. The administration didn't even bother storing chemicals in there anymore, just a plastic mop bucket full of condoms and an old bleach jug converted into a bank for coins to pay for them, on the honor system. West High was a modern, progressive sort of place. Spanky thought it was degenerate, but the only person who'd signed his "Close the Fuck Closet" petition had been Gauner, and even Spanky thought he was a dork.
"This whole place should be burned to the ground," said Spanky sadly as he reached for the door to push it closed.
"OUT OF MY WAY!" Someone big and strong and moving very fast flung Spanky away from the closet. Spanky tumbled to the floor, landing right on his ass. The closet door slammed shut, but not before he saw Prinicpal Stravo ripping off his gold business shirt and heard an older female voice Spanky recognized as a substitute teacher who'd worked that day moan "Oh, punish me like one of your students!" The bang from the door as it slammed shut echoed up and down the empty hall.
"The rot has started at the top," said Spanky. He should have felt alarmed by his own disrespect, but he didn't care.
He was about to get up and leave the building when he spotted a small black pile of cloth along the baseboard near the closet. Litter he thought, and considered leaving it for the janitor. But angry as he was at himself and his superiors, he still had responsibilities.
He got up and grabbed the bundle. Suddenly, it unraveled, and all of Spanky's troubles melted away. It was a paid of black thong panties with lace trim, size M, silk. Frederick's of Hollywood. He could tell without checking the tag.
That sub is probably a medium, he thought. These might be hers. His heart churned for a moment. He was obligated, technically, to at least ask if they belonged to her, before he claimed them as found items and added them to his collection. His beautiful, beautiful panty collection.
This is a good pair. Nice panties. He rubbed the slippery fabric with his hands.
You know what? These would have been thrown out anyway. I'm not stealing these at all. I'm rescuingthem."
"Oh Mr. Stravo!" cried the woman in the closet.
"And she doesn't need them anyway," he said. His mind made up, he stuck the panties in his back pocket and walked away, whistling, happily fiddling with his sash.