Evil Editor's Blog, page 441

New Beginning 647

They came riding horses of silver and jet. The rags they wore whipped them like a fierce laughter. Everything they touched, they despoiled. Unlike any conquerer in history, they could not be placated by plunder: treasure did not interest them and beautiful youth did not entice them. They did not wish to rule. Their only purpose seemed to be the destruction of everything they touched.

Four siblings hid in the extremes of the land. The one who took after their father's father hid in the desert. The

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Feedback Request

New Beginning 625 has been revised and awaits your input. The new version is in the comments there.[image error]

Writing Exercise Results . . .

. . . are in the posts below. The task was to write a scene in which Evil Editor is a substitute teacher.[image error]

Substitute Teacher 6

Val walked into Mrs. Brown’s room and stopped dead in her tracks. “The horror, the horror,” she gasped.

I pushed past her and stopped short myself, agape at the sight of a portly old guy sitting behind our teacher’s desk, knitting a shroud, and ignoring a random raven perched above the framed and illustrated Greek pantheon. “Where’s Mrs. Brown?” I asked.

“In a coffin, waiting to die.”

“Huh?”

“Sick.”

“Oh. You’re our sub?”

“Was Dimmesdale guilty?”

I rolled my eyes and plunked myself down in a chair. “Are

Substitute Teacher 5

I walked into the room and was greeted by screaming and laughter and the kind of rowdiness you'd expect out of sixth-grade juvenile delinquents, not people on the verge of adulthood. "SHUT UP!!" I yelled. That got their attention. "That's better. Now sit down and take your seats. In that order.

"I don't know what goes on here normally, and frankly, I don't give a rat's ass. Today I'm in charge, and since I don't need this job, I've got no problem with corporal punishment." I pulled my collapsible

Substitute Teacher 4

"Class, behave. Miss Jones is out sick today and Mister EE was dispatched to supervise your discussion of Macbeth." Snickers, shuffling and the electronic jibber-jabber of twittering cellphones filled the room.

"E-Who? E-Coli?" a student in camouflage clothes, face paint, size 17 boots, sat arms hugging knees to chest, mouth barely moving as fingers twittered. Headmaster Knack grabbed the student's cellphone and shook it, nothing happened.

"This is our remedial class."

"Yeah, we remedy ourselves in

Substitute Teacher 3

High school.

The word reminded Evil Editor of bubblegum, locker rooms, and writing essays for twice-his-weight jocks. But, the nightmares from his past could haunt him no longer. As a substitute teacher he held the power of detention. He would teach these unfortunate teenagers the ways of the editor. And they would learn. Evil smiled as he surveyed the class.

"Today, instead of discussing this rubbish," Evil dropped Ulysses on the floor, "I'm giving you a pop quiz."

The students groaned. A boy from

Substitute Teacher 2

"Hello, class, I'm Evil Editor, your substitute--"

"Ew," said the brat on the first row. "I'll bet the faculty bathroom has a mirror and sink, if you'd like to shave."

"I like it," said the nine-year-old on the second row who looked sixteen. "But the glasses have to go."

"And the suit, too," said the boy in the back of the room with a paint gun on his desk.

"He's in costume, you idiot," said a girl with a pound of silver rings on her face. "He's trying to look Dickinsonian, today's topic." A blob of

Substitute Teacher 1

So the guy walks in with side-burns like he's Scarlet O'Hara's boy-friend and Kristen's giggling like always. Josh is scanning him for weaknesses, and I'm almost feeling sorry for the guy, especially after what they did to Ms. Schwartz last week.

But then the guy locks the door. He dumps a pile of books with his face on them on the teacher's desk. “Good behavior will earn you copies of my coveted book for your impoverished school library.” He drops the key into his underpants as he says it.

Josh s