by Grimm, Sonhaven, I'm Not Mister Mxypltk and thedoctor
The B-Team case files No. 216: School Daze
"Meanwhile... in the Fish Factory... of justice..."
"Do you have to say that every time we come through the door?" Dr. Jody Huerta's voice echoed off the walls of the Fish Factory hallway.
Johnny Bates looked over at his companion and smiled a slightly devilish smile. "Mikey likes it," he offered, pointing a very hairy hand at their companion, who was falling all over himself laughing.
"Bwa-ha-ha-ha... Fish Factory... justice..." Michael Fortenberry, a.k.a. the Luchadore, gasped out in between fits of laughter.
"Yeah, but Mikey also likes it when you set yourself on fire," Dr. Huerta responded.
"Ah, comrades! You are being returned!" The voice of Blackwulf the Everchanging boomed throughout the hallway as his massive purplish frame entered and stood before his teammates.
"Comrades, I am having discussion with comrade Piper earlier, and he is thinking it is being good idea for us to be learning more of native culture to be blending in easier." The large giant with the pleather mohawk continued.
"Okay..." Dr. Huerta responded, looking somewhat perplexed. "And just what did he have in mind, Lassie?"
"Well, Monkey Boy, I am having a plan..." Blackwulf continued on, as the four walked down the hallway, John and the Luchadore shoving each other into the walls.
"Wait, wait, wait -- this plan of yours doesn't involve us dressing up like medical technicians, does it?" Dr. Huerta asked, beginning to grow worried.
"Nyet, Comrade. We are being going to night school. We are learning to speak Spanish!"
Just then, Johnny's arm burst into flame, and he ran screaming down the hallway.
The temporary home of the Center for Learning Arts, near the rebuilding of downtown Puerta Mibela:
The members of the B-Team sat next to each other wedged into the tiny school desks in the classroom. They each experienced various shades of discomfort at having to sit in the tiny desks.
Sniff! Sniff! "Jeez, Lassie, couldn't you have bathed before we came down here? And I don't even want to know how you managed to fit into the smallest desk in the classroom!"
"Egh... ughk... comrade Monkey Boy, is no time for jokes..." Blackwulf gasped out.
Slowly, the remaining students filed into the classroom and took a desk.
Finally, an overweight young man with dark hair and glasses came walking into the room. He was wearing a loose brown suit that seemed a size too small for him and carrying a briefcase. He was also talking into a cell phone.
"...well, I was on this porn site last night, and now I think the FBI is after me, so I can't send you your clock," he said, walking over to the desk and setting his briefcase on top.
"What? What does that have to do with sending me my clock?" the voice on the other end of the line answered.
"Uhm... I gotta go, I have a class to teach now," the man said, turning off his cell phone and simultaneously knocking his briefcase off the desk onto the floor. "Uhhh... uhh... okay, uhh, class, my name is Mike Peterson..." he said, attempting to pick up the briefcase, which consequently opened up, spilling its contents everywhere.
"Uhh... Mike Peterson... uhm... I'll be your teacher... uhm... uhhh..." He looked up at the classroom and the students, all staring at him. "I'm not gay," he mumbled.
Mike stared out at his students. Damn, no chicks, he thought. Though that monkey guy is cute... hmmmm.
"Well, let's start by getting to know each other a little," the fidgeting Mr. Peterson stated. "I guess I'll start us out. As I said, I'm Mike Peterson, and I'm going to teach you... stuff... yeah... I like wearing a kilt and the French language. I frequently change my religion and cultural background because... THEY are out there... watching... I also like long walks on the beach and men who aren't afraid to cry..." Mike stared into space with a smile and then jerked himself back into reality with the words, "But I AM NOT GAY... sorry."
The class, mouths agape, just stared. The only sound was that of Monkey Boy scratching his head.
"Would anyone like to go next?" Mike squeaked out.
In a desk that comically dwarfed him, Blackwulf raised his hand.
"Yes, you... big boy," Mike excitedly responded to the small but single form of attention.
Blackwulf put his hand down. "Is it okay if I am going to bathroom?"
Before the class finished, the teacher gave an assigment to the students and told them to form groups of five to do it.
"We are being four," Blackwulf observed. "We are needing one more member."
Monkey Boy, Luchadore, and Johnny looked at the other students to see who would fit in better with them. The other students were four men, six women, and a winged bear.
"How about that guy?" Johnny suggested, pointing at a man.
"He doesn't look like a team worker," Dr. Jody "Monkey Boy" Huerta said.
"How is that fellow being?" Blackwulf said, pointing at another one.
"No, he looks like a lazy one. The marks under his eyes suggest a drinking and/or drug problem. He probably comes from a broken home. His father must have had addiction problems, too. And his mother was a prostitute," Monkey Boy said.
"How about that one?" Luchadore said.
"That one is a wall. Get that damn mask straightened or take it off!"
"Oh, sorry," Luchadore said, moving his mask so he could see through the eye for the mouth. "Hey, how about that bear over there?"
"He's a bear," Monkey Boy said. "Perfect!"
Otto looked around the classroom. Everyone he had attempted to approach quickly huddled together into another group. He seemed to be the last person standing. He looked toward the front of the room where four odd-looking men sat staring at him and smiling.
Oh, dear, he thought to himself, I hope this isn't going to be like that time in Beirut...
Mike Peterson approached the area where the B-Team sat with their desks huddled together. "So, do any of you guys speak Spanish? Anyone need a tutor?"
The Luchadore's head suddenly popped up. "I know some Spanish!"
The other B-Team members began to shake their heads and mouth the words, "Oh, no," to each other.
"Quick, grab him..."
"Don't let him..."
"Comrades, that's my arm..."
"Really?" Mike said. "What do you know?"
The Luchadore jumped up on top of his desk and screamed out at the top of his lungs, "EL LUCHA LIBRE, AWAAAAYYYYY!" and took off running out of the classroom and down the hallway.
"Not again," Dr. Huerta said, holding his hand to the side of his face.
"It'll be okay," Mike said, putting his hand on Dr. Huerta's shoulder. "Can I touch your ass?"
Dr. Huerta moaned, "Noooo..." And he put his other hand to his face.
"I'm not gay."
Ohhh, Otto thought to himself, this IS going to be like that time in Beirut.
"Puedo grabar tu buttuckos? Can I touch your ass?" Mike spoke loud and clear to his class. "Repeat."
"Puedo grabar tu buttockos?" the class repeated in unison.
"Yo no es un faggoto. I am not gay."
"I've lived on this island for quite a number of years," Uncle Otto said while scratching his head with one of his claws, "and I've never heard either of those phrases used."
"This just doesn't sound right," Huerta said from his seat.
Blackwulf, between the painful breaths caused by a second grader's desk embedded into a giant's stomach, said, "Is no way for me to be telling, comrade. Is all Greek to me."
"GREEK!" the Luchador screamed out. "I thought we were learning Spanish!" John's hand quickly crossed the masked man's face.
"John," Huerta exclaimed in a very authoritative voice, "what have I told you about hitting Mike in retaliation for something stupid?"
"Retaliation?" the hairy man replied. "I just did it because it's fun." He smacked the Luchadore again. "See?"
"He is having point, Monkey Boy." A giant, purpleish arm swung out and connected with Mike's face. The masked man flew across the room and into the wall. Students, surprised and frightened by the spectacle, dropped to the ground for cover. "It is having very much fun."
Mike walked over to the group. "No es un bueno idealala a puncharlo tus amigos."
"What was that?" Otto asked.
"If you'd done your homework, you'd know," Mike responded, feeling very superior to his pupils.
"That just didn't sound right," Huerta repeated.
"Qual es tu numero del telphono?" said Mike.
"What?! Did you just ask me my telephone number?"
"No... um... If you'd read your textbook, you'd know that I was asking if you... um... were ready for a... um... pop quiz."
"No, you didn't," said Dr. Huerta. "Face it. You can't speak Spanish, can you?"
"Um... yes... um... I can."
"No, you can't. You're just making up words by putting O sounds on the end."
"Um... I can... um... I'm fluent in... um... I'm not gay."
The End