The Seven Habits of People Still Taking This Dumb Class, Friday
Today when the students assembled in the Danger Shop, they'd find that it...actually looked like a normal high school woodshop, with an array of tablesaws, handsaws, and even one lone chainsaw sitting out.
This was probably, in all honesty, a completely terrifying place to meet Cheryl and Pam. Oh well.
"Welcome to the last class," Cheryl greeted them. "I have no idea why you kept coming, but whatever, you don't have to anymore after this week."
“I think we’re teaching next term?” Pam offered, hazily. “Like, we got some paperwork. But you don’t have to come to that one, either. I think they pay us either way.”
Right. Somehow, the school was just not going to notice if Cheryl and Pam’s class had no students in it and never actually met. This was an A+ plan, Pam.
“Aaaaaaaaanywho,” Pam continued. “We got one last class, and it’s a doozy. Now that you learned all these habits -- and you didn’t, ‘cause they were dumb -- the last one is just ‘sharpen the saw.’ So I guess maybe the guy ran out of ideas and just made something up and no one noticed. Maybe no one’s gotten to the end of the book before.”
Pam, it was a metaphor. A pretty straightforward one, at that. And you didn’t read the book, anyway.
"Maybe he like, needed a saw sharpened," Cheryl pointed out logically, "and figured that if he just put it in the book, someone might come and do it for him."
So yeah, that metaphor had sailed right over her head, too.
"Anyway, we have gloves for you to wear, so if any of you cut off a finger because you weren't wearing them, you can't sue us because I told you that." Cheryl, once again, clearly did not really understand how litigation worked. "And I picked out all my favorite kinds of saws but I'd really recommend staying away from the chainsaw if you've never seen one before because those bitches are both really fun and fucking loud as fuck and I'm kind of hungover."
And also because they could cut off a limb, Cheryl. (Not really, Danger Shop, but still.)
“When aren’t you hungover?” Pam asked, raising an eyebrow. Seriously, Cheryl. “Yeah, I was gonna make everyone sign a waiver, about not suing us? I printed it up and everything, but then I spilled fudge on the papers and I went to print up more but Babou had pissed all over my printer paper, sooooo … let’s just all pretend you signed waivers and can’t sue us when you inevitably start just shooting blood out from whatever you lopped off.”
Admit it, you were going to miss this kind of professionalism.
“Okay, let’s get sawing! Chop chop!”
This was probably, in all honesty, a completely terrifying place to meet Cheryl and Pam. Oh well.
"Welcome to the last class," Cheryl greeted them. "I have no idea why you kept coming, but whatever, you don't have to anymore after this week."
“I think we’re teaching next term?” Pam offered, hazily. “Like, we got some paperwork. But you don’t have to come to that one, either. I think they pay us either way.”
Right. Somehow, the school was just not going to notice if Cheryl and Pam’s class had no students in it and never actually met. This was an A+ plan, Pam.
“Aaaaaaaaanywho,” Pam continued. “We got one last class, and it’s a doozy. Now that you learned all these habits -- and you didn’t, ‘cause they were dumb -- the last one is just ‘sharpen the saw.’ So I guess maybe the guy ran out of ideas and just made something up and no one noticed. Maybe no one’s gotten to the end of the book before.”
Pam, it was a metaphor. A pretty straightforward one, at that. And you didn’t read the book, anyway.
"Maybe he like, needed a saw sharpened," Cheryl pointed out logically, "and figured that if he just put it in the book, someone might come and do it for him."
So yeah, that metaphor had sailed right over her head, too.
"Anyway, we have gloves for you to wear, so if any of you cut off a finger because you weren't wearing them, you can't sue us because I told you that." Cheryl, once again, clearly did not really understand how litigation worked. "And I picked out all my favorite kinds of saws but I'd really recommend staying away from the chainsaw if you've never seen one before because those bitches are both really fun and fucking loud as fuck and I'm kind of hungover."
And also because they could cut off a limb, Cheryl. (Not really, Danger Shop, but still.)
“When aren’t you hungover?” Pam asked, raising an eyebrow. Seriously, Cheryl. “Yeah, I was gonna make everyone sign a waiver, about not suing us? I printed it up and everything, but then I spilled fudge on the papers and I went to print up more but Babou had pissed all over my printer paper, sooooo … let’s just all pretend you signed waivers and can’t sue us when you inevitably start just shooting blood out from whatever you lopped off.”
Admit it, you were going to miss this kind of professionalism.
“Okay, let’s get sawing! Chop chop!”