Riddle School: The Retelling

Chapter Three (RS3)

Another boring day of school. High school, this time.

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Alright, Phil was sick of this.

He took a few glances around the room, and decided that remaining in school that day was simply not worth it. If only he still had that rubber band that he tossed in the vent near his strict, but lazy teacher, he'd shoot the teacher's glasses off and escape.

Phil probably could use the ruler that was on his desk and the gum on the globe to pick it up, probably. He decided to do just that.

It ''twas only a single action later, when Phil heard the cries of, "I'm blind! I can't see!" And bear witness to his lazy teacher not caring about being unable to see. Phil picked up the glasses and took them with him anyway, just in case Mr. Soggy decided to gain some energy.

'That wasn't a sharp idea. Actually, that was kinda blurry.' What was he even thinking about? Ah. Escaping, that's what. On one side of the building, there was a brick wall, and on the other side, a locked door.

'Pigs will probably be flying before I get out of here. That won't stop me from trying, though. I just need the counselor's keys, and I'll be free!'

This time, when Phil tried to get through the office door, Chubb was, yet again, being a very large obstacle, this time for want of some pudding. He'll go down to the punch room and ask Mrs. Munch for some pudding.

She barely acknowledged his arrival. "What can I get for you?"

"Hello Mrs. Munch." It was only polite.

"Hello."

"I'd like chocolate pudding."

"Sorry." She shrugged. "Pudding costs a dollar. You don't have enough."

Phil walked out of the lunch room, defeated only for a moment. Surely if he walked around and did random tasks for random people, they'd take pity on him and give the proper change needed for his freedom?

Surely.

Miss Count's room and the auditorium were both locked and dark, so Phil continued down the hall, picking up a few pennies on the way to the teacher's lounge. Actually, peeking in, there were two teachers in there. Better avoid it until he has a good enough excuse to scrounge around for change. Another peek in the men's room held no water, so onto the supply closet he went.

The very bright fluorescent light caught the glimmering of a small and shiny silver coin on top of the very empty supply shelf, so Phil filed that information away for when he could make some sort of longer stick to pull the dime off and into his eager hands.

He walked through the library door very quietly, but Mr. Read, the librarian, still shushed him.

"How are you, Mr. Read?"

He frowned. "I'm feeling kind of depressed." He admitted. "I'm a librarian, and I can't even read! Well, I can read, but only big-print books. You see, my eyesight is like a stuffed monkey doll." He paused for dramatic effect. "It's fuzzy."

It just so happens that Phil had a remedy for this exact situation! He handed the librarian Mr. Soggy's glasses ('I hope he won't need these anymore.')

"Sweet." Mr. Read grinned as he placed the glasses over his nose. "Here's a free bookmark."

On most occasions, Phil would not exactly be happy to receive a bookmark, because he always managed to lose them, and usually ended up using torn pieces of paper instead. However, it just so happened that he needed another stick-like thing to reach the dime on the shelf in the next room over. So, he MacGuyver'ed a long-stick-sorta-thing and acquired the ten cents.