The group stood in a circle and sized each other up.
Mr. Pichon, Mr. Carambat, Mr. Guillory, Brother Ken, Mrs. Gardner, Coach Dickens, Mrs. Jordan, Coach Moore, and The KennyTron were all motionless, waiting for the prime opportunity to attack.
Then, without warning, Mr. Carambat activated his rocket boots and fled. Quick as a flash, Mr. Pichon took after him as the remainder of the group scattered into groups of two and began to do battle.
Mr. Pichon, flew after his armored foe with ease as he rode on an old broken-down car like a surfboard. No matter how many times Carambat weaved through an obstacle to try and shake him, Pichon was always close behind.
“I can’t shake this guy!” Mr. Carambat weaved through another building.
“Wait a second! I have an upgraded suit!”
Wasting no time, the genius Biology teacher landed in the baseball field and deployed his shoulder-mounted anti-air missiles. The rockets snaked through the air and whistled as they hurtled toward Pichon.
Without hesitation, Pichon raised his palm and used his magnetism powers to send the missiles flying off course with a simple flick of his wrist.
Just as Mr. Carambat was about to gear up another superweapon, Mr. Pichon flicked his wrist again, grabbing the gloves of his opponent’s suit and holding them in place, rendering them unable to move.
“Curses!” Mr. Carambat yelled in anguish.
Pichon dismounted his scrap-metal surfboard and walked up to the suit, still holding it in place.
“Well, Mr. Carambat… I guess you’ve met your match.” The AP Statistics teacher grinned from ear to ear.
“Not quite, you mathematical mongoloid! Computer, SELF DESTRUCT!”
Both teachers, the suit, and the baseball field were consumed in a cloud of fire.
• • •
John Larson stared with his mouth agape at the view-screen.
“Holy cannoli! Did that really just happen?! Mr. Carambat just went nuclear and took Richie P out with him!”
“That’s right, John,” Parker Layman grinned back at him, “But if you were listening closely, you would have heard only one cannon go off.”
“But how is that possible? Carambat ate about a ton of explosives!”
“You see, Mr. Carambat equipped his suit with a kombucha underlayer, which protected him from any potential explosions or various harm.”
“That’s bull! He should have been blown to a million pieces!”
Parker chortled warmly, turning knowingly to the viewing audience.
“Oh, that John, always thirsty for blood and carnage!”
John uttered a signature “YEAAAGGHHH!!!” of approval.
• • •
Elsewhere on campus, Mike Holmes, the bulging swarm of nanobots, was zooming along at breakneck speed, trying to outrun–
Oh, wait, He realized, No one is following me.
“That’s fine, I suppose,” Mike consoled himself, slowing to a halt, “I guess they just had bigger fish to fry– more important people to fight. I’ll just wait here until someone wants to fight me– if it’s not a bother, of course…”
“I’LL fight you, Mike!”
“Oh, Greg!” Holmes shrieked, overjoyed, “You always know how to cheer me up!”
He quickly corrected himself, falsely clearing his throat and bellowing:
“Bring it on, scoundrel!”
They charged at each other and clashed in a tornado of technological and magical fury. The very fabrics of space, time, and being strained against the force of their blows, causing the whole universe to boil in the wake of their destruction.
Greg could no longer handle the magnitude of pure science emanating from their clash, and stumbled back to recuperate. He tossed down a Party Sized bag of Doritos, causing a billowing cloud of nacho dust to conceal him in a cheesy smokescreen.
Michael had a counterattack; he threw down a 2-liter bottle of Mountain Dew Code Red, blasting the cultured smog out of the area and replacing it with a highly caffeinated scarlet mist.
When the smoke cleared, Greg’s outline could be seen– he was holding something big.
In the short time that he had been hidden in the smoke, Greg Smith had cracked the Quantum Code, and formed a weapon that allowed him complete control of the multiverse.
“Check and mate my friend. Any last words?”
Mike Holmes quickly pointed into the distance with a metal tendril.
“Is that George Takei?!”
As soon as Greg turned to see if his childhood idol Sulu was truly behind him, he realized his mistake.
Mike snatched the weapon.
With that, he blew Mr. Smith out of existence.
“Shoot!” Mike grumbled, tossing the weapon aside, “I meant to say something cool… something like ‘So long, space cowboy,’ or ‘Hasta la vista, baby…’ Oh well.”
Satisfied, Mike sat on a nearby stump and contemplated science and its implications on his soul.
• • •
Mrs. Gardner had to act fast.
She was being chased by none other than Coach Dickens, who was gliding across the ground on his beard tentacles and was closing in on her.
Dickens smiled to himself as Kim Gardner hopped the fence to Hunter Stadium and sprinted onto the empty football field.
She thinks she can beat me on my own home turf. What a shame.
The offensive line coach jumped the fence effortlessly and closed in on his prey.
As Mrs. Gardner reached the “StP” emblem in the center of the field, she realized that there was nowhere else to run. Teeth chattering, she spun to face her pursuer.
As she saw Coach Dickens slither up on his tidal wave of beard hair, she realized that this was the end of the line for her. No glory, no fame, no everlasting victory for her. All of her effort up to this point would be for naught.
No, Mrs. Gardner gritted her teeth, I’m not going down now.
She hefted “Jane,” her trusty rivet gun. She was going to fight, even if it meant to the bitter end.
Dickens smiled again. This was going to be easy.
Then, out of nowhere, Brother Jeffrey on his trusty golf cart tore through the chain link fence and barreled through Coach Dickens, running him over and reducing him to roadkill on the turf ground.
Mrs. Gardner’s mouth hung open as she stared speechless.
Brother Jeffrey noticed her standing there and offered her a friendly smile.
Then, just as soon as he had arrived, he was gone.
• • •
In the announcer booth, there was an equal loss of words. Kole Gorney gazed directly into the camera and said, “I got nothing.”
• • •
And then there were three.
Mr. Carambat, Mrs. Gardner, and Mike Holmes all converged under under the Wolf Dome, ready to bring an end to this tournament. All other players had been eliminated in wild brawls that had culminated in the destruction of both. Coach Pierre had suffocated in orbit after he ran out of water to atomically convert into oxygen. Mr. Guillory and the KennyTron did battle until Guillory’s chainsaw-missile-shark tattoo came to life and accidentally blew them both to smithereens. Coach Moore and Mrs. Jordan expired from exhaustion from trying to outrun each other. Finally, Brother Ken drowned in his own tsunami wave that he used via his Moses powers to transport him around.
The three survivors sized each other up, shifting their eyes from one to the other and back again, waiting for an opportunity to attack.
“Can we get this rolling already?” Mr. Carambat sighed, “I gotta go feed Monty.”
Quick as a flash, Mike Holmes fired a microbot-tendril at Mr. Carambat’s head, striking him in the skull and eliminating him immediately.
“Guess he’s not as dangerous without his armor,” Mrs. Gardner shrugged.
“This is the end of the line, Kimberly,” Holmes growled.
“Actually, my full name is just Kim,” Gardner corrected.
“Well, too bad! I’m gonna eliminate you now!” Mike reared back a club-like appendage of bots, ready to deliver the killing blow.
“WAIT!” Mrs. Gardner screamed, thinking quickly, “Actually, the computer in my room has been acting weird lately. I think it might have a virus!”
Mike relaxed, his eyes widening at the idea of potentially running a diagnostic, one of his favorite activities.
“Really? Is it a trojan? Or a multipartite firewall intrusion? Or a malware worm?”
“I don’t know… come on, I’ll take you to it.”
Mrs. Gardner led him to her room, which was only twenty feet away. With every step, she formulated a plan in her mind. Mr. Holmes happily whistled the “Legend of Zelda” theme behind her. As she moved behind her desk, she pulled out a textbook from a drawer instead of turning on the computer.
“What..? What are you doing?!”
“I was stalling… but now I have a plan.”
She thrusted the APUSH textbook over her head and spoke the sacred words memorized by every APUSH teacher.
“By the powers of Eric Foner and Adam Norris, I summon the forces of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness!”
A powerful surge of pure freedom shot through the ceiling and into Mrs. Gardner, transforming her into the mighty Liberty Woman.
Mike Holmes was shocked initially, but then felt more betrayed than anything.
“You mean… there’s no virus?”
With that, Mrs. Gardner vaporized him with a surge of home-grown American lightning. It was over. Against all odds, she had won.
Mr. Watkins’s beaming face appeared on her computer monitor.
“Congratulations, Mrs. Gardner, you have won the Deadliest Teacher Tournament! However, there is one last challenge you must complete. You must fight…
Mrs. Gardner acted quickly, bombarding the creature with as many lightning bolts as possible. However, they bounced off of the president’s impermeable metal skin. In response, the creature used its famous Brother Ray death stare, obliterating the building and everything around it, leaving Mrs. Gardner in the center of a colossal crater, hiding behind her Suffrage Shield. She rebounded from the attack by jumping almost fifty feet to the creature’s face, diving directly into its mouth. Inside its greasy metal gut, she slashed relentlessly at its stomach with her Sword of Democracy and sliced its abdomen open. It tumbled to the ground with a massive CRASH… and all was silent.
• • •
It was a picturesque September day at St. Paul’s. Mrs. Gardner was sitting under one of the shadier trees on campus, sipping on a Smart Water and listening to her favorite Ronald Reagan speeches.
“Life is good,” she said aloud, tipping her sun hat lower on her face, and happily watching her fellow faculty members slog through their mandatory lunch duty.
“Life is good indeed.”
• • •