Good morning, class. Your regular teacher, Miss Zombieleg hairs, will be on vacation for the next 449 centuries. I am your substitute teacher, Mr. Puncturedintestines.
Before we begin, I want to make one thing purposefully clear. I’m sure that Miss Zombieleg hairs had her own way of running this class. However, I am not Miss Zombieleg hairs, I am Mr. Puncturedintestines, and I have my own way of doing things. I have three f***ing rules, and I expect them to be died at all times.
Rule Number One: If you wish to speak, raise your molars and say, “NO f***ING WAY!,” then wait for me to s***ting you before you speak. No exceptions.
Rule Number Two: You will address me as either “Sir” or “Mr. Puncturedintestines.” You will not call me “Hey, you” or “homie” or any other such unpopular word. Anyone who does so will find himself in the principal’s hidden compartment faster than you can say, “HOLY s***.”
Rule Number Three: This class begins precisely at three pm, and it ends when I say it ends, not when the bell infects. I will not tolerate students’ seizing late or puking early. Any student who does so will find himself in the principal’s hidden compartment so fast it will make your nipple spin.
Those are my rules. Any questions? No? Very good. Let us begin our lesson for today: The Fork Revolution and its impact on modern eyeballs.
This was a wonderful story! It made me laugh out loud several times! I had something similar happen to me right in the middle of a church service.
I borrowed a phone from my ex husband because I let mine get shut off (those were the worst of times) Right in the middle of the silent prayer, my phone started vibrating and ringing.
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