Professor Why's Academy for Extraordinary Youngsters

Heroics 103: Teaching a man to fish

Not all heroes are cut from the same cloth. Some are born into greatness, chosen by their gifts or the circumstances of their upbringing to become someone great. Others have to earn it through blood, sweat, more sweat, and for good measure, a final dose of sweat. Bon appetite. Our school had a selection of both, with students like Arthur and Summer having been given incredible talent, while others of us, like myself and Situ, had to work for greatness. Of me and Situ though, one of us definitely worked harder than the other.

At the end of our first week of school we were mentally and physically exhausted. We had a telepathic feline force feeding us knowledge for half of the day, and had a very aggressive small bald man yelling some physical fitness into us for the other half, for a glorious sandwich of pain. Situ limped up to the rest of us, having spent the week challenging and losing to every naturally gifted student in the school, with a simple proposition.

"Let's go ice fishing." She said.

Ice fishing is in some circles considered a leisure activity. Those who view it as such will typically rent out a small cabin with a hole in the bottom, which they will visit for a few hours each day before they run off to do other Alaskan activities. However, Situ, in the week and a half I had known her, did not seem like the type to engage in leisure activities. Ivan asked the crucial questions before I could.

"Why, and what's the catch?" He said, with an air of amused suspicion that permeated literally everything he has ever said.

"For training and bluegill." Situ said without missing a beat.

Ivan sat there for a moment.

"I have no clever retort to that."

I chimed in with my own clever insight.

"It's better than the literal cat food they serve in the cafeteria." This was a bit of an exaggeration. The cafeteria served people food as well, but cat food was a menu item for those who were inclined, and after sampling the shoddy food, I had become increasingly tempted to sample some of the forbidden fruit. I mean, cats eat it. It has fish in it. It can't be that bad.

"This weekend then? Bring someone powerful." Situ said. I had no idea what this meant, and considering I didn't know anyone powerful, I figured I'd just ask around. After a few stinging rejections by the vast majority of the cute girls in the class, I managed to procure Venus, the girl with a plant for a head as my "powerful guest", because she was hungry for fish. I was informed that she was mostly human, but that she would, in fact, eat the bones. She politely asked if I was okay with that, to which I felt a mixture of disgust and fear but I summed up the courage to nod my head and meekly say "sure".

Our ice fishing day arrived. We had to wake up early on a weekend, which is precisely the opposite point of weekends, but according to Situ it was the proper way to go ice fishing, and given the wealth of knowledge I had developed over a lifetime of literally never touching a fishing pole in and around Los Vegas, I had to tentatively agree with her. Of course, fishermen get up early. It's like how (think of a relevant metaphor from my life. Thiiiink...) baristas get up early to serve coffee to commuters, but instead of coffee, we're serving death to suicidal fish. Nailed it.

I woke up and walked outside that morning at 7 am to find Venus already there. I nearly wet my pants upon seeing a grotesque plant with the body of a teenage girl in front of my dorm room, but since it was a communal living space I couldn't exactly complain.

"What are you doing up so early?" I asked, trying to pick the goop out of my eyes, lest it draw her appetite.

"Not much. Just soaking up the early morning sunlight." She said. Considering her head was a giant man eating plant, I was not in a position to doubt her claims.