My name is Tak Titicaca. I am a fairly boring person, but the story that I am relating is not by any means boring.
When the word fear is mentioned, people usually think about monsters and zombies and other creatures of the sort. Not many people think of their homeroom teacher. A schizofrenic (I'm actualy not sure of the spelling...) just so you know, is somebody with multiple personalities.
Mr. Schizofrenia. A word that used to describe a tall, kind teacher, but now describes an insane sociopath. I should have known by his last name that he had a different personality than the one he showed everyday with the exception of the first day of school.
On the first day of school I was informed that I was in Mr. Schizofrenia's homeroom. He was going to be our history teacher as well. He started off the year by saying, "Hello, children. This is my first year here, and already I know that it's going to be a bad one! I can tell just by looking at you! You must look like the stupidest school I've taught yet!" He went on like that until the disciplinarian, Mrs. Orangutang came in. Mrs. Orangutang was once the most respected proctologist in all of New Zealand. She had left to bring her skills to America, but became fascinated with the idea of ordering kids around, and took up the job of disciplinarian. She wore a wig because she was bald, even though she was only forty years of age. She was a big woman, and would have made a perfect PE teacher. She had a monicle that she used only when reading, which wasn't often, especially for a teacher. She had big eyes, her nose looked like that of Barbara Streisand's, and she always wore a smug look that said, "Don't mess with me."
"Mr. Schizofrenia, I regret to inform you that you have already been fired for the abuse of two Kindergarteners." She said after entering the room. Her voice was very deep and it was always hoarse.
"Fired? You can't fire me? What're you talking about?" He started yelling. Then he slapped Mrs. Orangutang. The slap was fake. He had given Mrs. Orangutang a couple dollars earlier to help play a trick on us. He would act like the meanest teacher ever, and then when he scratched his nose she would come in. I know this because after slapping her he laughed out loud and admitted it. He acted so downright mean becuause of experience. What I mean by this is that he was a schizofrenic just as his name suggested. For the first month and a half of schol, he was in "Very kind teacher" mode. Then he switched personalities.
The personality switch happened during study hall on the day of Halloween. He bumped his head up against the ceiling of the doorway for the umpteenth time of the year. He did this many times because he was tall enough to be a basketball player. Usually he just made some joke about it while we laughed. This time it happened differently:
We all laughed as usual. This time he let out a roar. We thought it was a joke, but it wasn't. We laughed along with the so called "joke". He let out another roar, and turned towards the class. His eyes flashed, and became bloodshot. Then the expression changed. The expression changed to a look that would scare anyone half to death. It was a look of pure hatred. Then he walked over to his desk. We were all shocked. He no longer looked like Mr. Schizofrenia. He had the same body, the same facial features, but it most definitely wasn't Mr. Schizofrenia. I asked him, "Mr. Schizofrenia, is this another joke?"
"I am not Mr. Schizofrenia anymore! I am now The Destructor. My name is Spike Decapatation. All of you will now shut up unless spoken to by me. I will hand out orders. If you do not follow them, I shall defenestrate you immediately. I shall now keep you in here until everybody leaves. Everybody is to get into the closet and hide." The Destructor said.
"In the closet? Won't it be a little tight in there?" Hortus Eden asked.
"I thought I told you not to speak!" Mr. Decapatation yelled.
"Uh, uh, s-s-s-sorry." Hortus stammered. Hortus was a short child. He was only a hair over four feet tall, and quite chubby. He was a little over-obsessed with the environment. When asked what he wanted to be when he grew up a year ago on Career Day he answered that he wanted to kill every single person connected with INDUSTRY; the evil industry, always trying to destroy the environment. That was back when he was over-violent too. Now he simply wants to become a gardener and fight for conservation.
Back then, Mrs. Orangutang, who was teaching the class, had a different opinion than his. "Oh, so you don't want houses to be built, huh? You don't even notice the ever-growing population, huh? I bet you'd rather give half the world the death penalty for overpopulating than chop down one tree to make room for a tiny house! You get a detention for that, young man!" She had been our history teacher last year. Her teaching method had always been a little different than others'. Instead of being open-minded, she believed that she was right and anyone who believed otherwise should be punished severely. She would have been more appreciated back when England was busy colonizing America. Oops. I mean killing off the Native American population.
"You're sorry? Not half as sorry as you're gonna be, Hortus! Just for that, you're going to be my hostage. Oh, and class, I now want you to call me a mix between The Destructor and Spike Decapatation. I am now The Decapatator. Sounds better, don't you think? NOW GET INTO THAT CLOSET!" The Decapatator said. Then he reached inside of his pockets and out came a 9MM. He reached into the other pocket and pulled out a hand device with a red button on it. He walked outside of the room, and picked up a loudspeaker that was attached to the fire extinguisher. While holding the gun to Hortus's head,hHe shouted, "this is Mr. Schizofrenia speaking. My name is now The Decapatator. You are all to leave the buliding right now! Anyone I find I will kill! First I will rip your ears off! Then I will gouge your eyes with your own teeth! Then I will-"
He was cut off by Mrs. Orangutang, "hold it, asshole! Just what do you think you're doing? Disrupting the peace, that's what you're doing! I want you to cut it out pronto, buster!" Mrs. Orangutang bellowed. The word 'buster' was a word she used often.
"That's exactly the point, stupid! And also, haven't you learned not to challenge a man with a gun's power? Especially when the gun is stuck up a little kid's ear? Now you run along and get everyone out of the building or I'll blow your head off!" The Decapatator said.
"Hey, Mr. Decapatator or whatever in Sam Hill you wanna be called, I have a gun too." Mrs. Orangutang said. She reached into her pocket and pulled the gun out. I would never mistake it for a toy. The Decapatator kicked her in the shin, and she dropped the gun. He picked it up, and snapped it in half. Although she had dropped the gun, Mrs. Orangutang acted like she hadn't felt a thing, "Okay, Mr. Decapatator. I'll play along with your game. I'll round up all of the students, but remember that tomorrow I'm gonna fire you! Yessiree Bob, no doubt about it." She said. Then she kicked him back lightly in the shin as if to imply that she wasn't afraid of him. If she truly was implying that, she must have been crazy. She walked into our room and said, "Okay, everybody out of the closet. What were you doing in there? I swear, I'll give you all a detention if I ever find out!"
"What are you doing, monkey lady?" The Decapatator asked.
"I'm rounding up your homeroom like you asked." She said.
"I think that my homeroom just might be staying here a while." He said.
"Oh. Okay, guys, you just get out of this alive, or I'll give you detention! I'll make you write, 'I will always get out of this alive,' five hundred times on the chalkboard in five hundred different languages! I don't want a lawsuit! I got in enough trouble the time that I was about to operate on this one guy, but - never mind, students. Just don't die in here!" she told us. "Hey, Weirdo, can I have a talk with you outside?" She then asked of The Decapatator.
"Sure, what is it?" He asked. The door wasn't closed, so we could hear them.
"I'll make a deal with you. I'll give you one free proctology appointment if you cut it out." She said.
"Do as I say, little Mrs. Proctologist! ROUND UP THE STUDENTS!" He said. While they were out there I had reached out the door to grab a pack of gum that I had dropped outside. It was a pack of Superstick, the stickiest gum in the world. It is said that if one was to blow a bubble with it they would spend the next millenium trying to get it off their lips. I didn't think it would make as big of a difference as it did. While we were still stuck in the closet our English teacher came in and tried to reason with The Decapatator.
"Look, Freddy, The kiddies all want to go trick-or-treating. I think it would be only fair to let them off today and take them hostage tomorrow. It would be all for the better." He said. Mr. Tique had been a Kindergarten teacher for fifteen years before moving to the sixth grade, and thought that everybody was what he used to teach: stupid.
"Your name is Freddy?" Hortus asked.
"I told you to stop talking! Do you ever listen? Looks like I'm going to have to defenestrate you!" He said.
"What does that mean?" Hortus asked.
"Captain Planet, you're about to find out." The Decapatator said. He picked up Hortus, and threw him out the window. We heard a scream, and then The Decapatator spoke. "Oh, too bad, so sad. That'll probably fix his little screwed up mind."
Even though Hortus was an annoying little brat, we all felt hatred for The Decapatator.
"Oh my! What happened there? You sicko! Was your mother A heavy drinker before you were born? What is your explanation for this inexplicable happening?" Mr. Tique questioned.
"He annoyed me. I told him not to speak."
"That is no reason for you to throw him out of the window!"
"Look, faggot, that's reason enough for me. Now leave my room or I'll do the same to you!" The Decapatator yelled.
"You wouldn't do that to me! I've never done anything to you!"
"Look. I am The Decapatator. I do whatever cruel things I want to people who annoy me. Right now you annoy me, so shut up and do as I say!"
"You are one screwup!" Mr. Tique accused.
"You're right. I bet I'm even screwed up enough to do THIS!" The Decapatator said calmly. He picked up Mr. Tique, and, true to his word, he defenestrated him. Then he spoke to us, "I'm about to go check if anybody was stupid enough to stay inside. I am putting this device by the door. If you open the door just the tiniest bit, you will all die." He put the device with the little red button wedged between the doorway, and left.
"We need to take action. The only reason he has us here is to kill us," I said. Then I noticed three things. The yardstick by the chalkboard, the Superstick gum, and the explosive device. I ran to the yardstick, picked it up, extracted the gum from my mouth, and stuck it on. Then I reached out with the yardstick. The gum touched the explosive device, and instantly stuck together. I pulled the yardstick back, and marched out the door, the other kids following me.
"I think we should split up so that we find him sooner," a boy name Billy Bob said. Billy Bob hiccupped a lot, and not only did he hiccup, but his voice also sounded like one everlasting hiccup. He always wore a sombrero with pictures of pigs on it. His shoes were what he called Clunkers. They were massive, and he could barely walk in them. When he walked, it sounded like a distant earthqake. Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. We did what he proposed because he was respected academically and people thought that his idea would be like he was; smart. Big mistake.
Billy Bob was killed first. It was probably because he tried to ambush The Decapatator, and the Clunkers got the best of him. When I found him, I found a head. It had an X carved into it, and it was five feet away from the body. In the next hour, I found eighteen other bodies, but still no Decapatator. All of the bodies that I found I knew, and were decapatated. They all had an X carved into them. I went back to the homeroom to plan a better strategy. I searched the Decapatator's desk for weapons. I found nothing. Perhaps Mr. Schizofrenia wasn't expecting on becoming The Decapatator for a couple more days, or perhaps he was trying to defend against him. All I found were old test papers and a baseball that he had gotten signed by Mel Stottlemyre as a child. I wondered what personality he was when he got it signed. Perhaps he was The Defenestrator, or The Regurgitator, or maybe even The Taco-maker! Whatever he was, he had gotten the ball, and that ball was the best weapon I could find. I could've used one of the desks, but he had a gun and he would shoot me before I got the chance to hit him. So I took the ball, and walked outside.
Fifteen minutes later, I saw him. He had the gun ready, and a scar across the face. What used to be a look of pure hatred was now a look of even more hatred. He was also swearing nonstop. I picked up the ball and threw it.
I was never much of an athlete, and could never throw with any real dignity. This time, however, a supernatural force took over. I threw the ball like Sports Illustrated's creation, Sidd Finch. It knocked him out cold. Then the supernatural force tried to take over again. I suddenly wanted to steal his gun and put everyone of the bullets into his head, but then I remembered his other personality. I remembered Mr. Schizofrenia. I remembered that this being had good in him too, so instead I took out his cellaphone and dialed 911.
The next day Mrs. Orangutang came in to speak to the grade, which had recently been shortened by 19 people. "I believe that by now you have realized that nineteen people are missing, and inquired of the happenings from Mr. Titicaca, one of the remaining students. Mr. Schizofrenia will be undergoing intense therapy starting tomorrow. Mr. Titicaca will move to Mrs. Cockroach's homeroom. There will be a funeral for the 19 unfortunate students tomorrow. We have hired a new English/History teacher for you. He will speak to you right now." She said. A short teacher with weird looking sugnlasses on walked in.
"I am Dr. G. I will be teaching you about the history of the toothpick. You might laugh now, but soon I will teach you to appreciate the toothpick! You probably don't even pay attention to it, but just where would we be without it? Huh? Ask yourself that question! After I teach you to appreciate the toothpick, I will be teaching you the difference between a skyscraper that's 77 stories tall and a skyscraper that is 76 stories tall. When looking at the two buildings next to eachother, you might not even notice the difference, and not appreciate what's on that extra floor! I will teach you to think otherwise! If we finish those off in time, I will spend the rest of the year doing various things such as memorizing the difference in length between Barbara Streisand's nose and the planet of Uranus. The answer is nothing. I expect you to memorize that. I will also make you memorize how many copies of Barbara Streisand's nose can fit into Steven Tyler's mouth. The answer is 22.157. If we finish with that, then I will spend the remaining days of school practicing how to properly eat a pound of lindburger cheese. I hope that you will appreciate all that I teach you, because on the last day of school regardless of whether we have finished all curriculums we will study the electric chair. I do this because some children don't learn anything about my various curriculums throughout the year. If I find this out, then at least they will learn something about the electric chair curriculum. All I have to say is, 'Listen or be zapped!'" He said. The way this school hires teachers, life was back to normal.