“And once again, the bake sale was a tremendous success. We raised more than $400, which was subsequently stolen from the office, but I am confident we will get that money back. In a somewhat related note, the school nurse will be visiting homerooms tomorrow to collect DNA samples from the entire student body…” Noticing the little addendum to her notes, the Asian Administrator of Lawndale High corrected herself. “…excepting, of course, one or two students who are exempt for…reasons that I won’t get into right now. Now, Mr. O'Neill has exciting news about our after-school self-esteem class, so you should all pay close attention if you want to leave at the usual time.”
Ranma, half-asleep by this time, perked up as the nigh-spineless educator took the place of the school’s dictator, to sporadic applause. Looking around from his place in the back row, the amnesic martial artist quickly found Daria and Jane. It wasn’t particularly difficult; they were up on stage after all. Unfortunately, he also discovered that he was sitting behind a chattering Quinn and two of her jock suitors. ‘Kami-Sama, doesn’t that girl ever shut up!?’
By now, Timothy O’Neill had taken his place at the podium and gotten his act together. “Thank you, everyone. You know, self-esteem is a little like your car's brake fluid; you may not even know you're low on it until, one day, you go to shift gears and nothing happens.”
A student in the audience couldn’t help himself. “THAT’S TRANSMISSION FLUID, DORK!”
O’Neill’s fragile psyche was battered relentlessly as the crowd of teenagers burst into laughter, and it took all of his not significant reserves of mental fortitude to keep him from collapsing into a sobbing wreck. Somehow he managed it, but judging by the shaky smile on the English teacher’s face, it was a very near thing. When the laughter finally died down, Tim picked up from where he left off. “That's...that’s what I said. Anyway, I'd like you to meet two students who have completed our self-esteem course faster than anyone ever before! Please join me in congratulations as I present these certificates of self-esteem to...” He checked his que cards. “…Daria Morgendorffer and Jane Lane!”
After a moment of scattered applause, Jane hopped up from her seat and crossed the stage to the podium, cleared her throat, then addressed the crowd. “I just want to say how proud I am today. Knowing that I have self-esteem gives me even more self-esteem.” She met Ranma’s eyes and smirked, before frowning thoughtfully. “On the other hand, having all of you know that I had low self-esteem makes me feel...kind of bad...like a big failure, or something.” By now, Jane was fidgeting uncontrollably, her eyes darting to and fro anxiously. “I…I want to go home!” With an exaggerated sob, Jane buried her face in her hands and ran offstage, her wails of distress barely heard over the laughing of the student body.
Since Mr O’Neill had run off to try and console the ‘crying’ teen, Daria took the initiative and walked over to the podium, waiting for the crowd to quiet itself so she could speak. “No one can battle a terrible problem like low self-esteem on their own. It takes good coaching-”
“Who cares about these losers?”
Ranma glared at the back of the jock’s head, but turned to glare at other idiot when he spoke up…
“Hey, beats algebra, though, doesn't it?” He snickered stupidly and high-fived his friend. “Did you hear what I said, Quinn? I said, like, who cares how bad this is; it's still better than algebra!”
“Nice one, Corey!”
Quinn nodded absently, staring somewhat nervously at her older sister. “…yeah. Funny, Corey.”
Realising that the redhead’s attention was elsewhere, Corey followed her line of sight to see the brain on stage. “Is that loser still tal-HUAGH!” Corey dropped like a rock, slumping over unconscious in the aisle. Seeing his teammate collapse without warning, the other jock jumped to his feet, only to follow Corey into unconsciousness and slump back into his seat.
Quinn froze in place, hoping desperately that she wouldn’t be the next to be taken out. The slightly accented voice from behind her head visibly startled her. “Finally! I thought those two were never going to shut up!”
The redhead spun in her set to glare accusingly at the Asian teen. “What did you do to them, Ranma?”
Ranma held up his clenched fist and wiggled it back and forth, his pinky and index finger extended. “Touch of Death.” When Quinn let loose a terrified squeak and backed away, Ranma chuckled guiltily and dropped his hand. “Don’t worry, they’ll just be sleeping for a little while…maybe half an hour.”
The sound of Daria wrapping up her speech caught both Quinn and Ranma’s attention. “And so, the one person I'd like to thank more than any other is my very own sister, Quinn Morgendorffer.” Daria waited for the gasps of surprise to die down before continuing. “My sister Quinn has forgotten more about self-esteem than I'll ever know. Are you out there, sis? Stand up and let me thank you.”
Quinn whimpered and slid down in her seat as her fellow students turned, almost as one, to stare at her.
Ranma leaned forward and whispered one word into Quinn’s ear, a word that had already been echoing through her mind. “Busted!”
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(Posted Tue, 10 Jan 2006 03:22)
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