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An age old question.
“It’s foolish and shortsighted to think that everyone in this world is either a wolf or a sheep. What if I’m a hippo?” Marcus queried from his lounged position atop the limp, faux-leather beanbag on the floor. One could never quite tell which of his incessant questions were genuine or just for a laugh.
Wije sighed. It was a sound of long and exasperated suffering at the hands of his closest friend. With a few practised, nonverbal hand gestures and several pointed glares, he managed to regain his class’ attention.
“An astute observation from my star pupil. Many questions and contradictions can arise from attempts to generalise the entire human population into two anthropomorphised categories,” Wije drawled. “Had the said star pupil shut his gob and continued to listen, he would have heard me make that point and extend it further.”
He made sure to send a friendly wink to his friend to communicate goodwill as his students giggled. Marcus took the verbal jab like a champ… for about 3 seconds. Suddenly, he held a hand against his heart and swooned dramatically,
“Oh you slay me with your unkind words, Teach!” he wailed. After a quick peek upwards to ensure the class’ attention was now on him, he pulled his face into a mourning mask. “I make a profound observation and you make fun of me! What a wolf move! Much too vicious for a hippo such as myself!” he warbled.
Wije rolled his eyes as the final bell rang. He resolutely ignored Marcus’ shit-eating grin as he regained the class’ attention again and reminded them of homework expectations for the weekend. The English teacher dismissed the students and trudged to tower over his still-seated friend as the teenagers filed out of the door.
“Remind me why you’re in my classroom?” he grumbled. Marcus merely extended his arms behind his head as he stretched out his back.
“Well, you invited me in as a guest judge for their debates in Week 6. I wouldn’t have noticed that my free period clashed with this class every Friday afternoon if you hadn’t pointed it out to me,” Marcus teased. “Plus, your kids can’t get enough of me! Who am I to deny my adoring fans of absolutely brilliant English commentary from their beloved performing arts teacher?”
Wije once again rolled his eyes. Unfortunately, this particular eye roll seemed to catch Marcus’ attention. The brunette scoffed indignantly in response, “Oi! Don’t you eye roll me! You’re just jealous that I’m their favourite teacher!”
The English teacher bit back a grin as he maintained a droll tone, “Yeah, okay. Sure. Not like you’re gate-crashing my class or anything.”
Another indignant screech.
“I do not gate-crash!” Marcus defended. “I improve! I enhance! I was practically begged - if not explicitly invited - by your students to attend!’
Wije’s disbelief extended all throughout Marcus’ following scramble to turn his beanbag around. His all-knowing smirk lasted up until Marcus pointed proudly to a hand-drawn sign attached to the back of the beanbag that the noirrette had not noticed before.
‘Mr Day’s Throne. VIP Access 24/7’
“Are you - How - How long has that been there?!” Wije shrieked in amazement. What the fuck? The scratchy handwriting narrowed the culprit down to one of about five of his students, but it was certainly from a student and not Marcus. Wije attempted to swipe the paper from the brunet’s hands, but the performing arts teacher held it out of reach.
“Uh uh uh,” Marcus tutted. “You can’t just ignore or crumple up a VIP, 24/7 access pass. Imagine the riots if my adoring fans found out that this sacred signage had been dismissed…”
Wije glanced quickly out the doorway and surrounding hallways to ensure they were clear before turning to face Marcus, “You little fucker! You’ve weasled your way into the good graces of my kids!” Turning to hide his pout, Wije continued, “Keep going like this, and you’ll be asked to teach this class. They’d take you over me in a heartbeat… Then you’ll be in deep shit. You’ll have to actually read a book to the end.” His laugh was weak, even to his ears.
“Hey,” Marcus’ call was soft. “Firstly, I can read, thank you very much. I’ll have you know that I read the entirety of Pygmalion when I was in Year 11, and I still regularly read far too much fanfiction on nights I can’t sleep, so, there! Also, stop it with that ‘everyone...
Wije sighed. It was a sound of long and exasperated suffering at the hands of his closest friend. With a few practised, nonverbal hand gestures and several pointed glares, he managed to regain his class’ attention.
“An astute observation from my star pupil. Many questions and contradictions can arise from attempts to generalise the entire human population into two anthropomorphised categories,” Wije drawled. “Had the said star pupil shut his gob and continued to listen, he would have heard me make that point and extend it further.”
He made sure to send a friendly wink to his friend to communicate goodwill as his students giggled. Marcus took the verbal jab like a champ… for about 3 seconds. Suddenly, he held a hand against his heart and swooned dramatically,
“Oh you slay me with your unkind words, Teach!” he wailed. After a quick peek upwards to ensure the class’ attention was now on him, he pulled his face into a mourning mask. “I make a profound observation and you make fun of me! What a wolf move! Much too vicious for a hippo such as myself!” he warbled.
Wije rolled his eyes as the final bell rang. He resolutely ignored Marcus’ shit-eating grin as he regained the class’ attention again and reminded them of homework expectations for the weekend. The English teacher dismissed the students and trudged to tower over his still-seated friend as the teenagers filed out of the door.
“Remind me why you’re in my classroom?” he grumbled. Marcus merely extended his arms behind his head as he stretched out his back.
“Well, you invited me in as a guest judge for their debates in Week 6. I wouldn’t have noticed that my free period clashed with this class every Friday afternoon if you hadn’t pointed it out to me,” Marcus teased. “Plus, your kids can’t get enough of me! Who am I to deny my adoring fans of absolutely brilliant English commentary from their beloved performing arts teacher?”
Wije once again rolled his eyes. Unfortunately, this particular eye roll seemed to catch Marcus’ attention. The brunette scoffed indignantly in response, “Oi! Don’t you eye roll me! You’re just jealous that I’m their favourite teacher!”
The English teacher bit back a grin as he maintained a droll tone, “Yeah, okay. Sure. Not like you’re gate-crashing my class or anything.”
Another indignant screech.
“I do not gate-crash!” Marcus defended. “I improve! I enhance! I was practically begged - if not explicitly invited - by your students to attend!’
Wije’s disbelief extended all throughout Marcus’ following scramble to turn his beanbag around. His all-knowing smirk lasted up until Marcus pointed proudly to a hand-drawn sign attached to the back of the beanbag that the noirrette had not noticed before.
‘Mr Day’s Throne. VIP Access 24/7’
“Are you - How - How long has that been there?!” Wije shrieked in amazement. What the fuck? The scratchy handwriting narrowed the culprit down to one of about five of his students, but it was certainly from a student and not Marcus. Wije attempted to swipe the paper from the brunet’s hands, but the performing arts teacher held it out of reach.
“Uh uh uh,” Marcus tutted. “You can’t just ignore or crumple up a VIP, 24/7 access pass. Imagine the riots if my adoring fans found out that this sacred signage had been dismissed…”
Wije glanced quickly out the doorway and surrounding hallways to ensure they were clear before turning to face Marcus, “You little fucker! You’ve weasled your way into the good graces of my kids!” Turning to hide his pout, Wije continued, “Keep going like this, and you’ll be asked to teach this class. They’d take you over me in a heartbeat… Then you’ll be in deep shit. You’ll have to actually read a book to the end.” His laugh was weak, even to his ears.
“Hey,” Marcus’ call was soft. “Firstly, I can read, thank you very much. I’ll have you know that I read the entirety of Pygmalion when I was in Year 11, and I still regularly read far too much fanfiction on nights I can’t sleep, so, there! Also, stop it with that ‘everyone...
