Ignoring the dark looks from My Chemical Romance…. I took a professional course in bitchery. Unfortunately (or fortunately) it was a very practical, hands-on course that encouraged its students to use up all their spare time in the polishing of their talents, both acquired and inborn. My semester had drawn to a close and jeer I did. I would miss the permanently venomous looks, the scathing air; sometimes we tied a student to the roof for the sake of it, other times we left someone lying on train tracks for hours till the train sounded. Alas, no one has died yet. Most regrettably it truly is. Nostalgia they call it. I hated those S.O.Bs and hope their sons and daughters will be as much of S.O.Bs as they are.
Once I graduated, I’d be able to go around being unnecessarily bitchy to blind people and lame guys and guys with heart disease or cancer or whatever because I’d have my degree. In the meantime, all I could do was pull out my student ID, a middle finger, and that didn’t get me far into my revision, usually because someone was either pounding balls of knuckle at me or going on about some moral value or the other before I could get round to my studying.
Once I get out of prison I’m going back for that itch (we can’t all be bitches) that got me here. She was supposed to be my friend. Ha! And you ask why I joined The University of Bitchester.
It was a simple affair really; I hadn’t even gotten round to using the Chandler Bing Theorem on her and she had me arrested. She’d just gotten this job, so she comes to me all happy and excited and wearing this smile that begged to be shot and she goes,
Itch: Oh My GOD! You will never believe what just happened.
Me: I’m assuming there’s no way I can stop you without ending up in prison or on death row?
Itch: What? (Puzzled, confused, SLOW)
Me: Oh what the hell, never mind, go on make my day!
Itch: I got that job I applied for.
Me: No way!
Itch: Yes way!
Me: No seriously, I mean no way. I wouldn’t hire you even if they put my dad and my mum at gunpoint.
Itch: What? (Mild surprise, she’s still in shock)
Me: I mean even if they sawed my teeth out real slow, and one by one with a rusted old blade, I wouldn’t!
Itch: What? (Pitch; higher. Surprise turned shock)
Me: Like if they had you and a bucket of eighty year old snot on the waiting list, it’d be the bucket for me, I’d put flowers and scent it and everything. Anything but you.
Itch: But… I don’t understand…
Me: Yea, me neither. Tell me, who’d you threaten to sleep with?
Itch: Okay, what the fuck is this?
(I should have seen the warning signs. Her first curse word should have sparked the warning sirens, but I was enjoying myself. So many muscles, so many expressions, all on one face.)
Me: Go on; tell me how you did it you crafty thing.
Itch: What the hell are you talking about! Crafty?
Me: Yea, crafty… like a dyslexic preschooler’s art project crafty. Like coloring outside the lines crafty. Like…
Itch: You bitch!
Me: Why thank you my professors would be proud!
That was when my professors walked in, Ms. Ratatoole, who gave a tiny rat’s ass and Professor Shoot-Me-or-Shut-the-Fuck-Up Dick. He walked around with a loaded pistol just incase. They’d decided I was doing so well, this might as well go down as my oral.
Itch: Who the fuck are they?
Professor Dick: Looking to apply to the university I see.
Itch: What the fuck are you talking about?
Ms. Ratatoole: Here, have a rat’s ass. (She handed her the bloody little mess on a little Tupperware, gloved hands and all.
At this point I was already out of the equation. When the police came into it, I was knocked out. Apparently Itch is taking a course in martial arts. Who the ass does that! Anyway, possession of an unregistered firearm, plus the fact that he was possibly suicidal got the Professor a year and two in a medical facility. Ms. Ratatoole had to show the cops her refrigerated stash of rat’s asses, give it up and cancel her subscription to PestKill Inc.
It was when I had tried to get in a word in defense for my teachers that Itch had turned her martial arts knowing wrath upon me.
Who knew you could lick your elbow!
