This is an AP Class, YOU SCUM

Chapter 1: The Dedication

“This is an AP class!” said Mr. McStache, the “advanced placement” history teacher. He took a large textbook and slammed it on his desk in a very intimidating fashion. “I will not tolerate any horse hockey from you scum. Am I making myself clear?” The class remained silent.

“Did I stutter, or are you guys just a bunch of timid clowns?”

“Yes Mr. McStache Sir Overlord Master Chief.” the classroom quickly answered in unison. He likes to be called that. I took a glance over at the kid next to me. He had wet himself.

Mr. McStache was quite the guy. I guess one could call him a superstar. He had been officially titled as the “Racquetball Champion of the Universe.”   He was 58 years old, and according to him, he had been teaching this AP history class for 85 years. I know that logic might befuddle some, but I wouldn’t ask him about it. Trust me when I say that he is always right. He gets angry when one ever questions him otherwise.

The bell rang, and the class charged out the door like a herd of cattle, probably because they were pumped to start reading the 87 chapters of our textbook that was due the next day. I know I was! It’s not like I had anything better to do with my life!

As soon as I got home that night, the first thing I did was greet my mother. Even doing that, I felt guilty, because I knew my priorities were mixed up. Mr. McStache would be very disappointed in me.  I hastily told her that I wouldn’t be able to see her again for the next eight and a half months. She became a bit concerned about it. When she asked why, I explained to her how I had to dedicate my life to Mr. McStache now and do whatever he said, which included reading 87 chapters out of the textbook per night, 5 tests a week, unforeseen essays at any time, and a 348 hour filmed documentary on the life of Winston Churchill that was due at the end of the semester. After that, she completely understood. She was sorry she even asked.

I went into my room and closed the door. I dimmed the lights and lit each of the four candles by the shrine in the corner of my room that I had dedicated to Mr. McStache. The shrine also included an oak table with a silver lined tablecloth, a bottle of incense, six framed pictures of him, and a stuffed pepper.  I opened my textbook to page 947 and started reading about the Battle of Waterloo. Well actually, it wasn’t exactly the Battle of Waterloo. It was the Duke of Wellington’s pep talk to himself in the mirror before the battle, which is obviously just as important. We had to memorize this pep talk in English, French, Hebrew, and Mandarin Chinese by tomorrow’s class. 

I couldn't be more satisfied with my life.