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Series One Side Story Aloysius and Tammy Every student at Neopia Central High who cared about his or her education wanted to have Mr. Aloysius as an English teacher at least once in the three years before graduation. He was a gold kougra, a tough grader, and fairly eccentric - but eccentric in a good way, not to mention one of the school's most brilliant and entertaining teachers. He tought four Advanced classes for the twelfth grade, a fact which inspired some students who started in Standard classes to work their way up through the levels. However, scheduling in this year had forced an Honors (mid-level) tenth-grade class under his wing. (As he wasn't a lenny, it was a metaphorical wing.) Tamara Dylan, Jody Miller, and Layla Grandissimo were among the new students privileged to sit through his class, and Tammy couldn't seem to stop sleeping through it. "What's wrong with this paragraph?" asked Mr. Aloysius, as they looked down at a sample essay on The Tigerbuggles of Wrath. Hands went up around the room. "Now," he continued fiercely, "this is something I've been telling you all quarter, so if any of you don't get it by now, you have been really out to lunch this whole time!" Hands began to waver and hesitate, and the polished kougra grinned jovially at himself, all appearance of fierceness vanishing. "Oh, I shouldn't have said that. You're all worr-- I've put too much pressure on you." You had to stay awake in Mr. Aloysius' class. He talked so quickly that his words tripped over themselves, and some only made it halfway out. Jody, who was mostly in Standard classes, usually had to look at a friend's notes; she could manage to take notes while listening, but when she went back to them later they were always incomprehensible. Her fuzz-topped pen was resting at the moment, though, as Mr. Aloysius - who couldn't sit still for long any more than he could talk slowly - got up and padded forward into the rows of desks. He walked on his hind paws, but they were usually bare; if he'd been in shoes, they would have been stomping painfully loudly. "Relax. Really. You know this," he assured the students. "Unless you have been, say, sleeping all year, Miss TAMARA DYLAN!" Tammy sat up with a jolt, dry blonde hair falling in her face. The rest of the class looked on - some with gleeful schadenfreude, some with simple amusement. They had all learned early on that Mr. Aloysius roared a lot, but it didn't mean he was actually angry. "Sorry, sir," said Tammy quickly, rubbing her glazed eyes under her large round glasses. "Pay attention, Dylan," snapped the teacher. "At least don't sleep. I don't trust you kids when you look like you're sleeping. Did I tell you about the time when my own-- did I tell you about this?--" The students shook their heads. Layla pricked up her ears - she heard a story coming - and Jody spoke up: "Tell us, Mr. Aloysius." The kougra, already caught up in the story, launched into his narrative. "My owner at the time was his father - he adopted me later - but he had just been born the last year, wasn't even talking yet. Anyway, he chewed his way OUT OF HIS CRIB - no, listen, over several weeks, like a convict digging a tunnel out of a PRISON. But that's not what gets me, no!" he added, as the class bubbled with gasps and suppressed laughter. "What gets me is - listen to this, he hid it! He hid the HOLE with his little blankie. This kid was devious and oh my Donna, look at the time. We have to do our test." There was a sudden shuffling of papers and books as students cleared their desks. "Mr. Aloysius!" cried Layla, remembering the original question. "It's a . . . block quote, right?" "Dropped quote," corrected the kougra, thrusting papers at the rows; students grabbed the stacks of test papers and passed them back. "A dropped quote, a quote with no context, just stuck in the essay with no explanation. DO NOT do that. Dylan, wake up. Take the test." The next day, as the students filed into class, Jody had joined Tammy in letting her head nod and her eyes slide closed. Mr. Aloysius whipped stacks of tests into the hands of people in the first row. "We're going to go over these now - Dylan, wake up! - MILLER, you too?!" Jody jerked her eyes open. "Sorry! Sorry. What are we doing?" "We are looking over th-- making sure you all understand what you got wrong," said the kougra, stepping back and resting his paws for a moment in his suit pockets. "Question one. Read it, Miss Layla." As Layla was reading - "In the context, what does the word 'rhetorical' (line 29) mean?" - the boy next to Jody, a scrawny kid with bright pink hair, whispered, "What were you doing last night?" "Killing things," hissed Jody in reply. She didn't go into details about the panicky call she'd gotten from Melony just after midnight, or the nest of Hissladys she'd rescued Sailor Moehog from as Sailor JubJub. It would have compromised her identity, and besides, the simplest explanation was all she needed to make him shut up. Jody was dozing off again when Mr. Aloysius ordered, "Miller! Read question 23, please." "Twenty-three," said Jody quickly. "Which of the following is not an example of elevated diction? A: shining armor . . ." "Hold it, hold it," the kougra interrupted. "Do we all understand what 'elevated diction' mea-- Can someone define it for me? Anyone?" The class just looked at him blankly. Then, to the surprise of the all, Tammy slowly put her hand in the air. "Dylan?" asked the teacher, pointing at her. "Huh?" "Do you have a def--? --Oh, you're just raising your hand in your sleep. Anyone--" "No, no, I'm awake!" said Tammy quickly, shaking her head. "What was the question?" Mr. Aloysius - who was sitting at his desk at the time - leaned forward and rested his chin on cupped paws. "What, Miss Dylan, is 'elevated diction'?" he asked, clearly entertained by the prospect of Tammy actually participating. Layla looked embarrassed for her best friend; she knew Tammy had been bright in kindergarten, but she'd slept through a lot of class since then. "Elevated diction," said Tammy, abruptly putting on a South Neopian accent, "is high-falutin' language for down-home things." There was silence for a moment - then Mr. Aloysius broke into a big purring laugh. "Brilliant! Excellent! You get two points for that one, Miss Dyl-- here--" He scrambled for his gradebook and a pen. "Keep that up, and I'll see you again senior year. SO. Elevated dic-- now, we know what it is-- which andswer is not it? Read the answers, Jody." As Jody read, Tammy closed her eyes and smiled. Despite her narcolepsy, she was enjoying Mr. Aloysius' class. The thought of getting to doze through it for two years was enough to give her happy dreams. |