World-Wolf - (ENGLISH)

Chapter 3

Did I already tell you that the high school was fucking zoo dedicated to tropical animals? Tropical animals because after a while people get bored to see always the usual tiger that roars from a 2x2 cage. People are like that. God knows what the fuck they think.   

There are those fearless, those economists who try to predict the future consumption and all. They never get achieve the outcome they want to achieve. People always fuck them.

I was telling that in the County no one was interested if you misspelled wrong the verb to be or who was an important, well-known person of letters. A literature teacher, Ms. Slater, used to introduce every poet or writer as "The well-know, so and so..." What a moron that teacher.

I gotta confess you that we were a herd of sheep put to pasture in that school. Boys, usually in nature the real sheep eat weed; we should eat vegetable and all. There was a female janitor in that kind of school, Berenice. She was proud of her name. 

She was convinced that her name was an aristocratic one. The truth is: her name was lousy. I have always told her the truth. We were in intimacy. She was a real janitor with the balls. It's weird to think that women don't have literally testicles but figuratively. It's an unclear nature fact. But it's the truth. And people are repellent to it. They are taken away their clothes when they realize the truth and this fact embarrasses them. I'm not a sort of headshrinker, for God's sake, but people elude the truth as if it was a tsunami. I imagine them running away like mad man as the tsunami of the truth tries to swallow them up. Sometimes they get away from it, those old fox, sometimes they leave the skin.

"Why don't you figure out how to get a school assembly? What do you think, huh, Levi?" Bernice said as she was peeling a sort of green vegetable sat on a decrepit chair. Only she knew what a hell she used to buy at the supermarket. Boys, Bernice was like that: she tried convincing students to get a school assembly - a sort of free ticket to not go at school - because she had to businesses or do something with her grandnephew and all. Berenice was a matron, tall and with a very short pee-colours hairs. She was okay. She was funny, by the way.

"What do you have to do?" I asked nudging her side. Berenice knew that in my class there was a dude, his name was Scott Dixon, who had been elected Student President. Boys, I'm such an uninformed person, but that guy usually raced against sheep to figure out who bleated more. When he published a post on some social media, he was the kind of person who wrote "it don't" or "she have". I can't bear those things. They drive me crazy. Why should you write the third person as the first one? I can't understand it. I'm not fucking fussy, but write the third as same as the first could be punished by a life sentence.

"I need to do some businesses" Berenice said by her voice as thick as a gorilla. I don't want to offend her, but I used to think that sometimes Berenice wanted to put me inside a sandwich alongside mustard and eat me.

Boys, you should know Berenice Schwarzenegger. Students called her like that because she was the female version of Schwarzenegger. Jesus, if they were twins.

"Just tell me, Berenice." I insisted. I knew she would have told me. She was like that: You need Google Translate 2060 to catch her lousy accent.

"Minger, back in the class. NOW!" the math teacher leaned forward the door's threshold. Boys, I had a safeguard. A sort of turret.

"Teacher, he is behaving well. No bothering at all." Boys, Berenice was my guarantor. But I have to say that when she wanted be a bitch, she would have been. Once she dragged a girl's hairs from the bathroom. This girl, a sort of Elizabeth I-don't-remember-the-surname, had been making fun of Berenice several times calling her Arnold. I had never seen Berenice so sick. God, she had evolved in Terminator.