3rd Sphere: I'm the coach of WHAT now?
((OOC Note: I'm posting this now, but it'll actually be happening on Monday morning. I just won't have time to get it up before work. Also, any high school aged boy can feel free to jump into this scene.))
[Jecht is up early on Monday, causing a ruckus around town, though not quite as loudly or angrily this time. He's mostly blowing off steam still, going back to his old blitzball training routines to keep the blood pumping and work off the frustration of this new life he's been thrust into all of a sudden. Eventually he reaches the high school, where he is accosted by the drone-principal, standing outside welcoming the students in for a new day of learning and development.]
"Ah, Coach Evans! Good morning! Ready for another rousing day of exercise in the gym, I take it?"
[Jecht narrows his eyes at the man, contemplating a first-class ass-beating, but decides he really doesn't feel like fighting the entire school staff right now.]
"Mr. Evans...? Listen, buddy, I dunno who you think I am, but..."
[The principal shakes his head, shuffling Jecht into the school with him.]
"Nonsense, Mr. Evans, you've always worked here as our boys' gym teacher and soccer coach! Come on, first period is about to start!"
[Jecht argues loudly and generically, using a litany of words no high school student should ever be exposed to. But if there's one thing the drones are, it's stubborn about their charming 1950s small town narrative, and he is soon standing in the soccer field behind the school, in front of a bunch of teenage boys in shorts.]
"Well, if I'm gonna do this, guess I'll do it right..."
[Looks over the ragtag group of high school boys on the soccer team he’d apparently been assigned to coach, grinning like the sarcastic jackass he is and just barely holding back a torrent of derisive laughter.]
“I come here to coach a sports team, and this is what I get? Look at you! The hell have you kids been eating?”
[He points at each of them in turn as he begins to call out their perceived inadequacies.]
“Too fat, too skinny, not enough muscle, too short… I have a lot of work to do with you wimps. Hell, my kid could wipe the floor with all of you, and he’s King Wimp!”
[Looking around the field, he grimaces in apparent confusion.]
“And what kind of field is this? You’re gonna play this game on the grass? Where’s all the water? All of you, back to the school, and get in the pool! I’m gonna show you all how to play a man’s sport.”
[Grinning like a maniac, he points toward the school.]
“Well? What are you waiting for? Get your asses moving!”
[Jecht is up early on Monday, causing a ruckus around town, though not quite as loudly or angrily this time. He's mostly blowing off steam still, going back to his old blitzball training routines to keep the blood pumping and work off the frustration of this new life he's been thrust into all of a sudden. Eventually he reaches the high school, where he is accosted by the drone-principal, standing outside welcoming the students in for a new day of learning and development.]
"Ah, Coach Evans! Good morning! Ready for another rousing day of exercise in the gym, I take it?"
[Jecht narrows his eyes at the man, contemplating a first-class ass-beating, but decides he really doesn't feel like fighting the entire school staff right now.]
"Mr. Evans...? Listen, buddy, I dunno who you think I am, but..."
[The principal shakes his head, shuffling Jecht into the school with him.]
"Nonsense, Mr. Evans, you've always worked here as our boys' gym teacher and soccer coach! Come on, first period is about to start!"
[Jecht argues loudly and generically, using a litany of words no high school student should ever be exposed to. But if there's one thing the drones are, it's stubborn about their charming 1950s small town narrative, and he is soon standing in the soccer field behind the school, in front of a bunch of teenage boys in shorts.]
"Well, if I'm gonna do this, guess I'll do it right..."
[Looks over the ragtag group of high school boys on the soccer team he’d apparently been assigned to coach, grinning like the sarcastic jackass he is and just barely holding back a torrent of derisive laughter.]
“I come here to coach a sports team, and this is what I get? Look at you! The hell have you kids been eating?”
[He points at each of them in turn as he begins to call out their perceived inadequacies.]
“Too fat, too skinny, not enough muscle, too short… I have a lot of work to do with you wimps. Hell, my kid could wipe the floor with all of you, and he’s King Wimp!”
[Looking around the field, he grimaces in apparent confusion.]
“And what kind of field is this? You’re gonna play this game on the grass? Where’s all the water? All of you, back to the school, and get in the pool! I’m gonna show you all how to play a man’s sport.”
[Grinning like a maniac, he points toward the school.]
“Well? What are you waiting for? Get your asses moving!”