Ms. Nimby, the Math teacher, taps her heel impatiently as she waits for her serving. Her shoe sounds like steel against the tiles. 'Shame the way they treat teachers, forcing them to eat the same gruel as these ignorent street urchins.' Her condescending eyes drift between the dark borders of her glasses as she watches the beans pour out onto her plate with grueling slowness. She stares at the aproned under classmen who served her a moment before marching off. "Thank you." They are the tersest words ever spoken on Krynn.
....below
Submerged again by the violent abduction of the spoon, you fight back to the surface. When you burst out from between two stray beans, you must wipes the streaks of tomatoe sauce off your visor to see clearly. The syrupy vegatable smears the glass and you wind up just hinging it open. A rush of fresh air enters your helmet followed by sights unseen by men.
Above and beyond hang the largest pair of mammary glands ever. They call to a part of your brain inactive since weening, entrancing you like an astrophysicist confronted by a quasar. 'I'm barely big enough to be a nipple ring for this woman,' you think and your dick responds to the indignation shrinking inside your space suit. Unshackling your eyes from these Goddess sized breasts only with great difficulty you look up along the rise of her black sweater, and the slope of her slender but still massive neck. Atop this sits a middle aged woman's face, just starting to show the wrinkles of age. She was probably vivacious once, you bet, but her expression now looks so constricted that any former passion must have surely been squeezed out by now.
'To bad she's not normal sized, so I could give her the fuck she obviously needs...' The tray shudders as the teacher finds her table, reminding you that to this alien you were less a potential mate than a possible snack.
...above
Ms. Nimby's spoon poises over her beans. Her eyes stalk through the lunch room like weasels. "Jimmy stop doodling, Erin quit fidgeting, Timmy!!?" Ms. Nimby glared at a near by little boy. His mouth hung open still and the teacher could clearly see a human woman pleading for help from within the slimy bolus which sat on his tongue. 'The horror, to think what his parents are teaching him at home.' "We chew with our mouths closed young man."
"Yes Ms. Nimby," the young toehead repeated by rote as he closed his lips on the human and continued to eat in strictly regimented chews. The math teacher's gaze circulated once more, like a baleful light house, and only once assured that order had been maintained did she return to her own lunch.
But before her spoon dips, she reaches for a human shaker, one marked Tender. She taps it over her beans releasing ten or so of the squirming naked treats onto her food. They were all between the ages of 8-13, the same age group as her students. 'Atleast there's some justice in the world,' she thinks as she scoops up a couple doomed children.
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