[A school bell rings. Several students, talking and being tardy and truant other school terminology, sit and stand around the classroom. A man enters the room and sits at the front. He places a briefcase on the table and attempts to get their attention. Finally, he is fed up.]
Landozzel: SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!!!
[The students turn in a combination of shock, awe, anger and hilarity. Landozzel kinda cringes as he thinks someone may shoot him. He straightens himself up as the students all grow quiet and sit.]
Landozzel: Good evening class.
Student #1: It's day time.
Landozzel: QUESTION ME AND KNOW YOUR OWN PERIL!!!
Student #2: The fuck, dude? Teachers aren't supposed to talk like this.
Landozzel: I am here to answer your questions about history. Its unsolved mysteries, its greatest unlocked truths, its..........well, shit you don't know about history.
Student #3: But this is a geometry class.
[Landozzel suddenly pulls out a ray gun and destroys the young student. Her head explodes and her lifeless corpse slumps down to the ground. The rest of the class sits unmoved. Landozzel is amazed by the movement of our culture towards complete indifference, but moves on regardless.]
Landozzel: So commence, children and young people who stayed back too long to be considered children anymore.
Janitor: I'm actually the janitor, cleaning the back of the room.
Landozzel: Well, you join in, you uneducated mass of disappointment.
[The janitor shrugs, and sits down at a desk, as hands from the students begin to rise.]
Landozzel: You, the Negro.
Student #2: Wow. You overtan a day and suddenly you're black.
Landozzel: SPEAK!
Student #2: Ok. Who really killed Martin Luther King?
Landozzel: Ah yes, that torrid story of awfulness.
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[In the Space/Time Continuum. Piett walks into the den, with a DVD of RiffTrax.com short films in his hand. As he walks to the TV, he stops and stares in horror at the screen. At the TV itself, Herve is licking and kissing Whoopi Goldberg, who is on The View rambling about something. Piett slowly walks out of the room, Herve unwise to even his very presence there.]
Piett: Son of a bitch. [walks out]
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Landozzel: And that's how and why Martin Luther King had to die.
[Shocked silence lingers for but a moment.]
Student #2: But wait, does that answer my question of "who?"
Student #4: Isn't it obvious? It was some white guy.
Student #2: Well duh.
Student #5: Who are Piett and Herve?
[Student #5 is blasted dead. Again, no one really cares, except for the student behind the new corpse, who wipes the brain matter and flesh off his desk.]
Landozzel: You next, young man with obvious fashion problems.
Student #1: I'm blind. [pause] Oh shit, did mom dress me badly again?
[Several students laugh.]
Landozzel: She obviously did, you no-eye-having fuck. ASK YOUR QUESTION!
Student #6: Unless it's "Why does God hate me?" Because obviou---
[Student #6 is disintegrated.]
Landozzel: WATCH YOUR SASS!!!
Student #1: Why was Abe Lincoln really killed?
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John Wilkes Booth: What the......I can't see the stage. Hey buddy, take off the top hat!
Abe Lincoln: Eat my ass.
John Wilkes Booth: Why you....[takes out a gun]
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Student #7: Excuse me sir, but these really aren't very good mysteries.
Landozzel: How's that now?
Student #7: Well, we really know who killed MLK. And we know the whole story of the conspiracy and scheme behind the assassin of Abraham Lincoln, which had nothing to do with the president wearing a top hat in the theatre. [pause] Although that's a pretty dick thing for him to do, if he did indeed do it.
[Landozzel takes out his gun...]
Student #7: *sigh* Fine, sir, I'll stop making sense and let this all continue.
Landozzel: Thank you, nerd.
Student #8: You seem a man of mysterious logic, sir.
Landozzel: And you seem too wise for your few years, emo girl who cuts herself.
Student #8: No, I was a failed abortion, sir.
[Landozzel shifts in his chair, uncomfortably.]
Student #8: How did the Roman Empire fall?
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Roman centurion: My Emperor! I'm not certain "lighting a joint" here would do much good. Imagine the fire that could erupt if you [fires erupts] OH SHIT!!! The room is on fire! Oh Gods, I hope this doesn't spread! [fires spreads] OH SHIT AGAIN, THE FIRE *IS* SPREADING!! By Zeus, I hope this doesn't lead to burning down Rome, the discrediting of the Emperor, and, over time, somehow leading to the moral and economic crippling of the mighty Roman Empire, which spans beyond the gods' gaze!
[A vague amount of years later...an old man holds a copy of The Rome Times, reading a headline about the recent end of the Roman Empire.]
Roman centurion: OH SHIT!!! I WAS RIGHT!!! [dies, because he is old]
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Student #2: Whatever happened to Amelia Earhart?
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[Mars. Amelia Earhart, noted aviator thought lost and dead in 1937 over the Pacific, leads a panzer invasion of the Coliseum of Canal X, defended by the zombie grizzly bear army of Charles Lindbergh Jr, the kidnapped and dead son of American aviator Charles Lindbergh, now reborn as the android God-king of Mars.]
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Student #7 [raises hand]: Mind shooting me with that gun, sir?
Landozzel: I was hoping you'd eventually beg for it.
[Landozzel shoots and destroys the nerd, who had clearly given up on life in his finalest of moments.]
Student #4: Why does George Lucas keep changing the STAR WARS movies over and over and over and over and over again?
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George Lucas: BECAUSE I CAN CAN CAN!!!! [goes into ridiculous Moulin Rougesque dance number, along with Luke, Leia, Chewbacca, Darth Vader, Lobot, General Veers, Mon Mothma, Prune Face, Thrawn, Commander Cody, Kit Fisto, EV9D9, 8D8 and many more of his hapless ficional minions.]
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Student #8: Who *is* buried in Grant's Tomb?
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Zombie Ulysses S. Grant: Millard Fillmore. [shrugs] Go figure. [resumes feasting on a bus of dead nuns and orphans somewhere in Oregon]
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Janitor: How, when and why did Al Pacino become a parody of himself?
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[Al Pacino, on the set of Scarface.]
Al Pacino: It was really cocaine, chinos! HOO-AH!!!
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Student #2: That was a horrible waste of a question.
Student #4: But at the same time, it's the most sensible answer so far.
Student #1: ....ok, I'll punch. Why *does* God hate me?
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God: Because you touch yourself at night.
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Student #1: Shit. I thought that was my girlfriend I was touching.
[Landozzel shoots him.]
Student #4: Ha! He never saw it coming.
[Landozzel shoots him too.]
Student #2: This is getting very violent. And you really haven't tackled the main subject at hand outside of a few silly--
[Landozzel shoots him too. All that remains is the semi-aborted emo girl and the janitor.]
Student #8: ......I think I've been through enough for one lifetime. I'll just be leaving and never mentioning any of this ever again. Okay?
Landozzel: Fair enough. It'd be unfair to kill *all* of you.
[Student #8 leaves. But as she reaches the door a ray beam strikes her back and she evaporates into nothingness.]
Landozzel: But then when are villains *ever* fair? Heh.
[Landozzel keeps his gun out.....and slowly trains it toward the janitor. There is a moment of silence.]
Janitor: Well, here we are.
Landozzel: Yes. Here we are.
[The janitor stands up, and walks calmly toward the windows.]
Janitor: I didn't think you'd ever find me, Landozzel. Who knews the most dastardly villain I've ever known would be used as a messenger for the Council, and track me across dimensions to a simple high school in.....wherever the hell this is.
Landozzel: The Council doesn't look kindly on--what the?
[Suddenly a portal opens, and Herve and Piett emerge. They are......well, puzzled, to say the least.]
Piett: What the hell is this?
Landozzel: What is what?
Janitor: Who the fuck are these assEEAAGNRHHHHGHHHH!!!!!
[Herve shuts the janitor up by tearing this throat asunder.]
Piett: What is this? Is this your own subplot?
Landozzel: .............well, yes.
Piett: And who authorized that?
Landozzel: I would assume Walsh did, as he's currently writing it.
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A Garmin GPS device: Turn left. Keep left. Turn left.
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Herve: Clearly it is not Walsh, as it's instead a Garmin GPS device writing this very silly tale. [pause] Huh. That makes no sense. [pause] WHO CARES!
Piett: Continuity is by the wayside these days, Landozzel. You're dead or something and thus you'll not be engaging any foolish subplots with solving unsolved mysteries and any shenanigans with a mysterious "Council"...
Herve: I'm curious about it though.
Piett: No you're not.
Herve: Okay. [looks around] You know, on the other hand, the killing kids part of this story was kinda bold.
Piett: Yeah. I'll give you that part at least.
Landozzel: I don't understand any of this shit. Why I never retired myself years ago is beyond me.
[Piett and Herve portal themselves out of this story, while Landozzel wanders out of the classrom and turns left out into the corridor.....turn left.......turn left......turn left.......turn left......]
*fin*
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