...e it's her fault they screw this kids up and aren't there
because they are too busy fucking the houseboy or smoking pot. Not that she
objected, but she didn't like getting called a "lousy fucking teacher" when
the kid was half-retarded.
When she got in, she saw that there was practically twenty parents she had
to meet with. *Shit*
"Ok people, I'm going to start with last names. Abrams, come up" was all
Edna could come up with, as she had to sit through several mind numbing hours
of parent complaints.
"Ok, and last call, the Simpson's?" She said, and then sighed. Bart was
the worst kid in her class, the local fuck-up and class clown. She saw Mrs.
Simpson come in to her room.
"Take a seat please. Is Mr. Simpson here?" She asked, trying to be polite,
but it was already 11 at night.
"Nooo, Homey went out for a drink." Marge said in her voice that could cut
"Ok Mrs. Simpson, your son Bart" Edna started, but accidentally knocked
over a cup of coffee that held various pencils and pens the janitor Willie
left there for the children that didn't bring something to write with. She
went to get it, and Mrs. Simpson said "Don't worry Mrs. Krabopple, I got it"
Marge said as she went to the task of cleaning up the scattered mess. When