Transmutation

A short story

Transmute: verb to change from one form, nature, substance, or state into another; to transform

"Class, settle down! Y'all are supposed to be in your seats; I'm a-takin' roll."

The sophomoric students in class 1-A scurried to their assigned seats, chatting quietly as Mrs. Rio took attendance. Up and down the rows, students gossiped about the latest news and cracked jokes. But in the sleepy town of Barren Springs, South Carolina, there really wasn't much to talk about.

Oh, how lucky they are. The brats have no idea…

The teacher rapped her knuckles sharply on the podium, calling for attention again. She started to lecture the class on the importance of education, using exaggerated hand motions and emphasizing the value of a college degree. Then she snatched the chalk to write on the blackboard, but the students heeded no attention as she wrote.

I can't believe this. I'm stuck in some low-down, hillbilly class full of idiotic sophomores and their fascist teacher. And I'm a podium. A podium, for god's sake! What kind of cruel, sick joke is this? In a parallel universe, I'd be a full-fledged military commander for the Arsonist Army!

"Hear, hear! Gather 'round, gather 'round to witness ye 'Magic Blanket!' It transmutes, it transforms; it transcends all other forms of so-called alchemy!"

An extravagantly dressed clown clanked a cracked old bell to attract the crowd's interest as he stood on a brass podium. He had a painted white face and a joker's hat, and many people had begun to look at him curiously. Next to him, a ragged, blue blanket was put on display near a strange, ambient vortex. It was a noticeable exhibit – a clown, a blanket, and a vortex all seemingly had no connection whatsoever to each other.

"What's this? Dopey, what did I tell you about your ridiculous attempts at magic? The last time this happened, you blew the marketplace in Jerome to smithereens!" shouted a large man from the crowd.

The man who called out was exceedingly tall, topped with a black cap and wearing navy blue uniform decorated with silver buttons. A strange symbol was scribed onto the top-left side of his forehead; his tattoo was visible due to his light blond hair being swept back by his cap. The clown grinned widely, ready to greet his familiar.

"Hello to you, too! But not to worry, Commander. I swear, I've perfected my Blanket this time—"

"DOPEY! WHAT DID I TELL YOU?!" roared the man.

The clown, Dopey, flinched visibly. With his eyes cast downward, he muttered, "Well, I suppose you said something about not killing any more citizens…"

The commander sighed and rubbed his temple. "Yes. And what are you doing now?"

At this, Dopey smiled viciously, revealing his razor-sharp teeth for the first time. "I'm not blowing anything up. I'm… Wait, I need a volunteer first!"

The crowd that had begun to form quickly shrunk back, wary of the monstrous clown that had appeared. They had learned, soon enough, to stray from bizarre creatures that found their way into the city. Everyone but the Commander had stepped back.

"Ah, Commander Sterling! How kind of you to volunteer yourself!" The clown chattered amicably, ignoring the townspeople that had immediately gone on guard after seeing his teeth. He promptly snatched the arm of the Commander in a death-grip and proceeded to drag him underneath the ragged, blue blanket.

"Wait—! Dopey, what are you doing?! I—"

Dopey smirked evilly to himself as the Commander protested. You'll see…

"Did y'all read th' Adventures of Tom Sawyer like I told you to?" Mrs. Rio asked monotonously. She did not notice the drooping of her students' eyelids as she continued to lean on the podium with her elbows. Her voice droned on and on, slowly enunciated every word. It was a nonstop, fanatical speech almost without end…

And I have to endure it. I have to suffer through this for forty-five minutes with five minutes in between in this world's standard time. I have to bear this lax incentive of being a powerless object called a podium for god-knows-how-many years. I have to…have to…

"The blanket isn't harmful. The blanket loves you. The blanket is happy. The blanket will make you happy, too!" Dopey exclaimed, smiling widely and showing off his sharp teeth.

"Dopey, I really don't think this is a good idea. Whatever you're up to… Hey! This is a direct order – unhand me!" the Commander bellowed, writhing under the grip of the psychotic clown.

"Don't worry. This won't hurt a bit!"

Before the Commander could object again, the blue blanket was stuck tightly over his head and his coat. It quickly cut off any circulation from his mouth and nose, and wrapped itself even more firmly with each time the man tried to inhale. Won't hurt a bit…?

"Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present to you a full transmutation between a human… and an inanimate object – my podium!" the voice of Dopey boomed over the hushed marketplace.

The Commander heard a grinding noise from the stone pavement of the street. Dopey must be dragging something… The podium? He plans to transmute me into a podium?!

"Nighty-night, 'Commander' Douglas Sterling. Be a good podium for me!"

The last he could remember were the shrill giggles of Dopey before his mind went blank.

Author's Note: Yes, this was an English assignment. We really were supposed to write a story with a podium as the main character. . . And I admit it, I did learn the word "transmute" by reading Fullmetal Alchemist. But this wasn't a fanfiction. Uhh... Most of this is also a parody of my English class. I don't know anything about the South, its classes and dialogue (I'm a horrible person who stereotypes) and there are some anime concepts in there that I don't even know about (according to my friend). Anyway, I'd appreciate any feedback/flames/criticism.