14. Crucible

I wish I had a gun so I could just blow my brains all over the test and hand that in to Mrs. Bitch, the dumbest, bitch-faced teacher in the whole bitched-out school. I guess I couldn’t technically “hand it in” but I could write my name at the top of it, make a note on the back that says Here’s my test, you bitch, turn it back over, and then blow my brains all over the front of it. This is why I should bring a gun to school. That’d show the bitch.

Who is the author of the work?

a) Tennessee Williams   b) Arthur Miller   c) John Proctor   d) Dr. Seuss

Fuuuccckkk. None of the above? I don’t know. I mean: duh, it’s not Dr. Seuss. I hate it when teachers pull that shit. They think it’s funny and helpful to throw a joke answer in there, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s, like, patronizing as fuck. We’re not idiots, you bitch.

Maybe I would have actually read the damn play if at the end of last class, she had actually reminded us that we were having a bitch-ass test today. I mean, what kind of sick bitch tells you a week in advance that you’re having a test, but doesn’t take two retarded seconds out of her day to say, Don’t forget to study for the dumb-fuck we’re having next time!

The nerve.

What hand-made gift does Mary offer to Elizabeth in Act Two?

a) a voodoo doll    b) a supposed olive branch   c) a poppet   d) all of the above

What the shit-dick is a poppet? Oh, I’m sorry, Mrs. Bitch, did you forget how to spell “puppet”? I’m gonna say that do her. I’m gonna stand up, walk over to her, slap the test on the desk, point my finger to “poppet”, and ask her if she’s retarded.

A fire alarm starts screaming right before I was gonna do it.

Everyone stands up and Mrs. Bitch says, “Okay, hold on everybody, let’s stay calm and exit in a single file.”

In the halls it literally smells like smoke. And I’m like, hell yeah. It’s like God finally got his shit together.

Outside, everyone’s split off into their stupid little groups except for me, and then firetrucks start showing up. Then another class gets out and I can see Wendell coming toward me, grinning his ass off.

“What’s tickling your balls, asshole?” I give him a fist bump and then he looks from side-t0-side.

“Let’s go behind the old gym. Like in stealth mode, bro.”

On the way, he tells me that a week ago I mentioned I had that stupid test, and he remembered because it was the same day as his math test.

“At first, I was like, fuck it, ya know. I figured I’d just get the hall pass and pull an alarm. But then the next day, I was like, no way, that’ll be so obvious. So I thought since my brother is in town, he might do it for me. And he was like, ‘Pulling an alarm will buy you 15 to 30 minutes tops. If you want to be out of school for the whole day, you gotta set a fire.’ So I ended up paying him 35 bucks to swing by the school, all incognito, and set a fire in the fucking library dude!”

“That’s the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever heard in my life, man!”

“Nah, this is: I’ve got a fuck-ton of paint thinner in my back pack and you’ve just been elected to huff it with me.”

“Dude! Best day ever!”

All of a sudden, I’m hugging him. I don’t even remember doing it. I guess I just haven’t been this happy in a really, really, really long time.

Wendell pushes me away and said, “Don’t touch me, faggot!”

“Don’t call me ‘faggot’, queer!”

We do this for a while until we’re not best friends anymore. I threaten to tell everyone what him and his brother did. And then he says if I do that, then he’s gonna tell everyone that I’m a fag and that I hugged him. We agree that we’ll both stay quiet, and then he goes off to huff paint thinner without me. I wish I had a gun.

 

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