Somewhere in Special Collections, Sunday morning
"Alright, class!" said Miss Zarves. "It's dictionary time!"
Virginia cheered. Sam woke up from her nap.
"What? Is it lunch?"
"What's lunch?" asked Nick. Sam stared at him, appalled, then looked at Virginia.
"We have to get lunch," she said. "It's a law or something. I demand lunch!"
"We have three more hours until our two minute break," Virginia assured her.
"Two minutes? Are you crazy? I've been here forever!"
"Only for eight hours," Nick corrected. "I've been here nine years."
"I've been here more than thirty!" Virginia bragged.
"Dude," Sam said, snorting. "You've been held back over thirty times?"
"Oh no," said Virginia. "Miss Zarves always gives me all As. I haven't left this room in over thirty years."
Sam stared again. She looked around the room, taking in the vacant expressions of the other students, the cheer with which Miss Zarves wrote "Dictionary Time!" on the chalk board, the placid chewing of the cow.
"I don't think so." She stood up to leave -- and found that the door wouldn't open. "Hey! Let me out!"
"Now, Sam," Miss Zarves said calmly. "That is not how we do Dictionary Time."
"Screw your dictionary!" Sam said. The students gasped. "Screw it and the cow it rode in on!"
"If you don't sit down, I'm going to have to punish you."
Right, Sam had had enough. It was time to go full on iCarly on this woman.
"RANDOM DANCING!" she shouted, and started flailing and hopping and kicking and dancing about the room.
"Sit down this instant!" Miss Zarves said. "You're not doing any dance I've ever heard of!"
"And now, I'll hula in a circle while reciting Hannah Montana lyrics!" Sam announced, and proceeded to do just that.
"There is no hula-ing in this classroom!" said Miss Zarves. "I will give you one more chance. Now please, TAKE YOUR SEAT."
Sam kept hulaing. "When the temperature gets high," she told Miss Zarves, "the elderly will start to die."
Miss Zarves looked like she was about to explode -- and then suddenly, Sam was somewhere else.
It was a jungly elsewhere, a sharp, mountainy jungly elsewhere. A wild pig blasted out of the underbrush near her, squealing in terror.
"Kill the pig!" A chorus of voices chanted. "Cut her throat! Drink her blood!"
Sam nodded to herself. "Now this is more like it."
[ooc: NFI. Sam is now in Lord of the Flies. Be afraid. Be very afraid.]
Virginia cheered. Sam woke up from her nap.
"What? Is it lunch?"
"What's lunch?" asked Nick. Sam stared at him, appalled, then looked at Virginia.
"We have to get lunch," she said. "It's a law or something. I demand lunch!"
"We have three more hours until our two minute break," Virginia assured her.
"Two minutes? Are you crazy? I've been here forever!"
"Only for eight hours," Nick corrected. "I've been here nine years."
"I've been here more than thirty!" Virginia bragged.
"Dude," Sam said, snorting. "You've been held back over thirty times?"
"Oh no," said Virginia. "Miss Zarves always gives me all As. I haven't left this room in over thirty years."
Sam stared again. She looked around the room, taking in the vacant expressions of the other students, the cheer with which Miss Zarves wrote "Dictionary Time!" on the chalk board, the placid chewing of the cow.
"I don't think so." She stood up to leave -- and found that the door wouldn't open. "Hey! Let me out!"
"Now, Sam," Miss Zarves said calmly. "That is not how we do Dictionary Time."
"Screw your dictionary!" Sam said. The students gasped. "Screw it and the cow it rode in on!"
"If you don't sit down, I'm going to have to punish you."
Right, Sam had had enough. It was time to go full on iCarly on this woman.
"RANDOM DANCING!" she shouted, and started flailing and hopping and kicking and dancing about the room.
"Sit down this instant!" Miss Zarves said. "You're not doing any dance I've ever heard of!"
"And now, I'll hula in a circle while reciting Hannah Montana lyrics!" Sam announced, and proceeded to do just that.
"There is no hula-ing in this classroom!" said Miss Zarves. "I will give you one more chance. Now please, TAKE YOUR SEAT."
Sam kept hulaing. "When the temperature gets high," she told Miss Zarves, "the elderly will start to die."
Miss Zarves looked like she was about to explode -- and then suddenly, Sam was somewhere else.
It was a jungly elsewhere, a sharp, mountainy jungly elsewhere. A wild pig blasted out of the underbrush near her, squealing in terror.
"Kill the pig!" A chorus of voices chanted. "Cut her throat! Drink her blood!"
Sam nodded to herself. "Now this is more like it."
[ooc: NFI. Sam is now in Lord of the Flies. Be afraid. Be very afraid.]