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InGen University p3
By CeratosPit
Last time, on InGen U...
Billy, meanwhile was cracking up off of the events that recently took place. “Oh man! What a hilarious wedding that was! Why I remember in like it just happened last week!”
...
“I’m the booking agent. One of the bridesmaids got sick, so I came here instead.” Udesky explained.
...
. “Then by the powers vested in me by www.fake-licenses.com, I now pronounce you husband and--”
“MY LOVE FOR YOU IS LIKE A TRUCK, BERSERKER!!!” interrupted a Boom Box being held up in the air at the door on the right by a desperate looking German named Dieter Stark. “WOULD YOU LIKE TO MAKING F*CK, BERSERKER!”
...
“I guess this will have to do for now.” said Paul as he got down on one knee. “Amanda? With this nipple ring I thee wed!”
...
“The baby!” Amanda screamed. “Paul! The baby! It’s--It’s--” And just then, riding a broken waterfall out of Amanda’s dress, a shaggy looking baby crawled out of his placenta.
“Wah! Wah, I say!” said the baby. “I tell you Waaah! Somebody get me some damned pants, it is intolerably cold in here!”
...
The painful end to his reminiscing came to Billy when a large block of cheese crashed into his head and knocked him off his desk. “Brennan!” screamed the professor. “You know the rules!” He pointed to the chalkboard where rule number one was written, ‘No Flashback Sequences In Class!’
“Oh, sorry, Professor Junkee.” apologized Billy. “I was just thinking about Amanda’s wedding.”
“Oh Man! What a hilarious wedding that was! Why I remember it like it just happened last week!” exclaimed the professor. Jarislav Poopinheimer Junkee (JP to his imaginary friends) was a cartoonish caricature of a man with a superiority complex and questionable references as a Psychology professor. His cone shaped nose stood of his face, as did his bulging eyebrow ridges. Or rather, unibrow ridges. His eyeglasses were an inch thick and his curly little goatee projected out of his virtually nonexistent chin. On top of that, he was incredibly high wasted and lacked a noticeable stomach. “Now then, where was I? Ah, yes. In conclusion of today’s reverse psychology lesson, if you ever want to talk a suicidal person out of, say, jumping off of a building, taunt them and challenge them to do exactly that. They will realize exactly how ridiculous suicide is and come to there senses! Any questions?” A few hands went up. “Yes, Gene Ralrancor?”
“So, what you’re trying to say is if I wanted a suicidal celebrity like, oh say, Tea Leoni to kill herself, I would tell her not to do so and embrace the precious gift of life?”
“Precisely! Yes, Amber Femmyname?”
“What if the person wants to kill you?” Amber asked.
“Then pretend your on the cell phone and ignore him. He’ll get bored and leave you alone. You have a question, Yvonne?”
“Yeah, I do.” Yvonne said. “How the hell did you become a Psychology teacher when your obviously insane?”
“At Psychoanalyst University, of course!”
“There’s no such place!”
“Sure there is! It’s right down the street! Look out the window!”
Yvonne went over to the window and stuck her head out to see what Junkee was talking about. “There’s no Psychoanalyst’s University!” she proclaimed.
Junkee knew she was right. That’s why he hurled a cheese wheel at the girl and knocked her out of the window. “Let that be a lesson to you all. Never question Dr. Junkee.”
“Doctor?” questioned Martin Randle. “I thought you were only a professor? AAAAAGH!!!”
The scream, by the way, was the result of Junkee pushing the button which caused Martin’s desk to drop him into the angry meerkat pit below. “Slow learner.” Junkee said. “Anybody else? Chris Koh? Hunter Dark? Jean P’Fanferlyfe? Danny Finklestein?” The students all shook their heads. All but one.
“I Will Ban You!” Danny shouted as he got out of his seat and ran to the window and jumped out. “But not todaaaaaaay!”
Over in Urban Environment class, Alan and Sarah took the notes Professor Guittierrez was giving them like good students should. Nick Van Owen however, was too busy reading ‘Cans & Jugs’ magazine and tossing crumpled up subscription cards at the hirsute paranoid student Mark Degler, who was hyperactively raising his hand.
“Now you see young men and ladies, when the hairsPray industry encroached in on the Florida everglades and introduced DDS into the environment by littering, it caused the extinction of innocent animals such as the Bladefaced Deathsnake and the Sulphur-sPitting Acidbear. And this is why it is important for us as the sexy young men and women of tomorrow to shut down these harmful corporations from the inside via industrial sabotage. But we will learn more about that after the break. Now then, are there any questions?” Professor Guittierrez surveyed the class and found that the jumpy, hairy kid with his desk removed from the rest couldn’t keep his hand down. With a roll of the eyes, he called his name. “Yes, Sr. Degler?”
“NICK VAN OWEN WON’T STOP THROWING CRUMPLED UP SUBSCRIPTION CARDS AT ME!” Mark shrieked. “IF I GET A PAPER CUT, I COULD GET INFECTED WITH THE EBOLA VIRUS AND DIE!”
Guittierrez turned his attention to Nick who was now sPraying his hair and looking at himself in his ivory-handled mirror. “Sr. Van Owen, have you been paying attention to a word I said?”
“I believe it was something along the lines of ‘Mwop Mwop Mwaaaap! Mwop Mwaaap Mwop Mwop’! You know, like the grownups in Snoopy cartoons! Hey-O!”
“Sr. Van Owen, need I remind you that your grades are slipping and if this keeps up you will fail Urban Environment?”
“So what? Environmentalism is for wussies, hippie pinkos and crybaby Italians pretending to be Native Americans!”
“Nick, once when I was your age, I sPent my birthday in a bomb shelter because it was widely believed that Paraguay had weapons of mass destruction. Now this was never true, but my family believed it anyway. That afternoon, however, Bolivia dropped a Mushroom cloud on my obscurely small Latin American country and vaporized the world. When we came out forty days later, we discovered that only my family’s bomb shelter survived, now floating through sPace. We landed on a nearby planet, repopulated it and saved mankind. And if floating through sPace doesn’t make you appreciate the world around you, nothing will.”
Nobody said anything for a while. Then, Mark sPoke up. “WAIT! THAT MAKES NO SENSE!”
“Mark, shut up and get a haircut!” Guittierrez scolded.
“I CAN‘T DO THAT OR MY MOTHER WILL DIE!”
Back in Junkee’s class, the aforementioned professor was almost ready to excuse his student’s for the day. “It would seem there are only two minutes left for class and I have a foot massage appointment to keep. Very well then, pass up your essays on sexy cartoon characters and you may all leave when that bell rings.”
Billy suddenly remembered that he hadn’t even started his paper. He sPent the past few days dressing up like a footrest and hiding out at the local sorority. “Roland! Dude, I am so screwed! I completely forgot about this terribly inappropriate assignment for Psychology class and didn‘t do it!”
“That’s tough, chum.” Roland said comfortingly. “I did mine’s on Olive Oil. Saucy Minx, that one is.”
“I did mines on Malificent from Sleeping Beauty.” Amanda said dryly. “I’m not Lez, but if I was I would so hit that.”
“Ah, my three distinguishable students!” Junkee greeted as he slid over to the trio. “I trust you found this uncharacteristically simple assignment well within your collective abilities to complete and pass.”
“Actually, Professor Junkee, uh, Randy Johnson beat me up on my way to class stole my paper, erased everything, rewrote it all and handed it in as a biology paper in his Philosophy class. I asked him, ’Why? Why do you do such horrible things to me, uh, Randy?’ And do you know what he said? He said ‘Billy, I’m doing this because I am not only bigger and older than you are, but also because I’m a gay asshole who does whatever the F-word he wants! And also because you’re the youngest kid in this entire University and must therefore be kept in your place!’ So you see, Professor Junkee, I did do the assignment, but because of the ageist hate crimes on this campus, I was unable to hand it in. So I’m asking you, as an innocent young victim of circumstance, from the bottom of my heart, please give me an extension for, say the day after sPring break finishes?” Billy plead to his mentor with swollen eyes.
And at that moment, the people do say, Professor Junkee’s heart grew three times in size that day. “You know, Billy, as a young lad I was forced eat fertilizer and ritualistically shave off my nipples by my older sisters. So, if anybody can understand the torturous shit people put you through for being the youngest person here, I can.”
“Excuse me, are you Prof. Junkee?” asked an adorable 10 year old girl with dimples and black hair. “My name is Cheryl Chyler, and I’m new. I’ve been transferred here from the third grade. And yes, I realize I’m coming to class fifteen seconds before it’s finishing, but that’s because I sPent the last hour sculpting this likeness of your face out of cheese.”
Cheryl handed Junkee the sculpture and he damn near exploded with glee. After a few attempts at sPeech turning out as incoherent whines, he told the girl. “I’m so beautiful! Little ten year old girl, you are my new favorite student and soul receiver of any sympathies I may ever have to give! Oh, and Billy? You get an F.”
Billy couldn’t believe it. “But I--” And before he could even begin the bell rang. He was almost home free until this little cheese sculpting harlot came in and stole his thunder. Being the University’s youngest student was all he had and this upstart was not going to steal that from him. He waited for Junkee to turn away and leave the two alone. Most of the students had left. Now was his moment to confront this new threat to his status. “Listen, bitch. I don’t know who you think you are, but--”
“My name is Cheryl Chyler!” she interrupted with a smile. “You must be Billy Brennan! It is so nice to have someone my age in this class! You wanna be friends?”
“Let‘s walk as we talk, shall we?” he said putting his arm around the girl and guiding her out of Junkee‘s class. “First off, save your goody two shoes act, okay princess? Just save it. Second, you’re what, ten? Well, I’m eleven. The big one-one. I am not your age. And because of that, we have no reason to be friends. I have friends, alright? I don’t hang out with little kids. EsPecially ones who cost me an extension on my homework essay like you just did back there.”
“I cost you an extension?”
“Yeah. You did. So if I were you, I’d watch myself and stay out of your way (you being me in this scenario) before I did something to make you really angry. Okay?”
“Ummm…Is that some kind of threat?”
“Consider it a warning.”
“Oh. Alright then. Consider this my warning.” And with the quickness of a wildcat, she grabbed Billy’s collar in one hand and his crotch in the other and swung him against the hallway wall, applying painful amounts of pressure to both ends. “I did not skip nine grades and head off to college to be talked down to by some pansy eleven year old I was trying to make friends with! And if I ever hear a hint of aggression in your voice directed at me again, I will see to it that you go into your adult years without having ever hit puberty!” She saw how quickly Billy’s look of arrogance turned into fear. “Look at you. Making threats one second and then quivering like a leaf the next. It’s pathetic. I’d bash your face into the water fountain if you weren’t so damn cute.” And with that she pulled his face towards hers, kissed him and then threw him to the ground like a piece of garbage. “I’ll see you around. Bitch.”
Billy watched the awful girl leave with his head lying on the floor. He waited until she was out of earshot. “Yeah, you better run!” he quietly taunted as he curled up into a fetal position. The boy could only take so much pain in his lower area in one day. And the last thing he needed was for Amanda Kirby to walk by and tell him “I think she likes you.” after such an embarrassing moment. But she did.
2 B Continued...
2/5/2004 12:52:33 AM
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