From the Desk of a Sadistic Teacher… Dear Diary, It’s Monday again, and I have to deal with those little brats for another week. I was prepared for class today, ready to make their Monday as miserable as I could. I handed back some papers that I graded over the weekend and gave them their midterm grades. During conference period, this one girl in my class came up to me and asked why she didn’t get an H for her midterms. You know the type, the one that won’t shut up about her grade. “Why didn’t I get an H? I got 6’s on all the tests we’ve had,” she said. I replied, “You know how some teachers don’t give out H’s at midterms? …Well, I’m not one of them. Maybe if you didn’t have the intellectual capacity of a pinecone, you would have done better.” “I don’t know how to respond to that,” she said. “Good, you’re not supposed to. Now go back to the disease-infested cave you crawled out of. Dear Diary, In class today I told the students they would be getting a free cut. “Awesome! What day will it be on?” said one of the little sacks of unhappiness. “No, not like that. You will all get a cut, and it will be free.” We then went on to the homework, and I chose students to put problems on the board. I saw one problem that had a slight error. I could have let it slide, but I couldn’t resist. “That one is fatally flawed. Who is the creator of that disasterpiece?” I said. One girl timidly raised her hand. “And what is your name?” “Are you serious? I’ve been in your class since September! My name is Amy, remember?” she said. “I can’t remember the names of all the demons that plague my life. Now on to the homework.Do you see your error, or do you need me to show you? It’s number 14, not 13. Label your questions properly, or next time I will be forced to hunt down and eat your pets.” “Why do you have to be so condescending? You’re a jerk,” she said. “And you are an accident your parents had during Mardi Gras; that’s why they sent you away.Now sit down.” Dear Diary, Class was boring today. I wasn’t in a teaching mood, so I put an impossible problem on the board for the kids to work on while I played Tetris on my cell phone. When class was over, I collected the work from the students, lit it on fire in front of them and handed out cupcakes. I told the students I made them last night and baked them with care and love. What I really meant that there were laxatives inside them. I tried to remind the students that their test was tomorrow, but they were in such a rush to go to the bathroom I don’t think they heard me. Oh, well. Dear Diary, Today was the day of the test. The students didn’t look too well; they seemed sick. Wonder why? Some looked confused when I handed the tests out. I told them not to worry, but this test would be worth 75 percent of their grade this term. I’ve done a bunch of things this term to make the tests difficult. I’ve made them too long, I’ve put in impossible problems, I’ve printed the questions in invisible ink. I’ve even written the tests in ancient Greek. Today I wanted to do something special. The test I handed out had questions about molecular physics, vector calculus, Kazakhstani history and America’s Next Top Model trivia. As I suspected, no one knew the answers. I threw them a curveball by placing a safe in the middle of the room with an answer key inside it. The students could get the answer key and use it for their test, but each had to look at a picture of Former Soviet leader Leonid Brezhnev for 30 seconds before I would tell them the combination. Several students began bleeding out of their eyes, which scared the rest out of trying. Forty-five minutes and one trip to the emergency room later, the students exited the room, each with another 0 test grade. It was a great week. —Ben Prawdzik
