Post by northernireland on Dec 10, 2012 22:22:46 GMT -5
Detention? Ah, he should've seen it coming.
"Really now, Robert?" Donald had chimed during his history class. Robert D. Sorensen was the name of the teacher however 'Robert' was simply enough to capture this elderly man's attention. This teacher was old, hair thinning and white, but was surprisingly healthy, lively, and terribly disciplined and mean. If he could recall, Robert looked reminiscent to the American fast-food icon, 'Colonel Sanders'.
There was a grin plastered on his face, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He had been humoring the class with his antics, remarks, and comebacks to the irritated teacher. Donald wasn't making a fool out of himself. More of, he was making a fool out of the teacher by pressing him a litany of questions, only to point out all of the wrong facts and rubbing it on his face.
"Detention?" Don repeated again as he stared into the firm eyes of Mr. Sorensen. "Please, now Robert we don' have te do it that way."
"Better than getting expelled, Mr. Kirkland."
"Ayeesh stop 'm nae a Kirkland, dammit call me 'O'Neill'. Ye can get sued fer callin' people the wrong name in America, don'tyeknow?"
"Get out. Now."
If this nasty professor was trying to humiliate him in class, it certainly wasn't working. Donald leaned back and then glanced at a girl.
"Can't be that bad, right?" He winked as she smiled slightly.
He got up, picked up his belongings and then sauntered over to the front desk where he received a pink slip and a dreadful glare. As he got out, he stared at the piece of paper in his hands.
"The cafeteria? The hell they gun' do ta me there? Some sorta new form o' punishment?"
Goodness to God, he could be ditching right now. Perhaps Don was too much of a nuisance to that teacher and he didn't think it all the way through. Snickering to himself, he folded the parchment and then tucked it in his pocket. He imagined a map of the school campus on his head and followed the way his instincts told him. As he trekked along, he realized that he was going to a dinky area of the school that looked like a 2-star American penitentiary, straight from a C-rated Hollywood movie. Wonderful.
This place was reserved for all of the 'monster' kids. Don shuddered to the thought. When he walked into what he thought was the cafeteria, he froze. God, was the place filthy--and it was teeming with...
"MotherFUCKINGSweetbabbyJesusChrist--" Don nearly fainted when he saw two roaches scamper across the tile. He was going to have a heart attack. As if on cue, he saw the shadow of a large person approach. Oh dear god, it was the lunch lady.
God fucking shite--why didn't he just leave.
"Really now, Robert?" Donald had chimed during his history class. Robert D. Sorensen was the name of the teacher however 'Robert' was simply enough to capture this elderly man's attention. This teacher was old, hair thinning and white, but was surprisingly healthy, lively, and terribly disciplined and mean. If he could recall, Robert looked reminiscent to the American fast-food icon, 'Colonel Sanders'.
There was a grin plastered on his face, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He had been humoring the class with his antics, remarks, and comebacks to the irritated teacher. Donald wasn't making a fool out of himself. More of, he was making a fool out of the teacher by pressing him a litany of questions, only to point out all of the wrong facts and rubbing it on his face.
"Detention?" Don repeated again as he stared into the firm eyes of Mr. Sorensen. "Please, now Robert we don' have te do it that way."
"Better than getting expelled, Mr. Kirkland."
"Ayeesh stop 'm nae a Kirkland, dammit call me 'O'Neill'. Ye can get sued fer callin' people the wrong name in America, don'tyeknow?"
"Get out. Now."
If this nasty professor was trying to humiliate him in class, it certainly wasn't working. Donald leaned back and then glanced at a girl.
"Can't be that bad, right?" He winked as she smiled slightly.
He got up, picked up his belongings and then sauntered over to the front desk where he received a pink slip and a dreadful glare. As he got out, he stared at the piece of paper in his hands.
"The cafeteria? The hell they gun' do ta me there? Some sorta new form o' punishment?"
Goodness to God, he could be ditching right now. Perhaps Don was too much of a nuisance to that teacher and he didn't think it all the way through. Snickering to himself, he folded the parchment and then tucked it in his pocket. He imagined a map of the school campus on his head and followed the way his instincts told him. As he trekked along, he realized that he was going to a dinky area of the school that looked like a 2-star American penitentiary, straight from a C-rated Hollywood movie. Wonderful.
This place was reserved for all of the 'monster' kids. Don shuddered to the thought. When he walked into what he thought was the cafeteria, he froze. God, was the place filthy--and it was teeming with...
"MotherFUCKINGSweetbabbyJesusChrist--" Don nearly fainted when he saw two roaches scamper across the tile. He was going to have a heart attack. As if on cue, he saw the shadow of a large person approach. Oh dear god, it was the lunch lady.
God fucking shite--why didn't he just leave.