I was heading to the class I taught the other day by my favored mode of transportation: on the back of my emu Gucci. As I neared the building my class was held in, I noticed a group of people protesting my use of the bird. I reached into my backpack and found my mace, then borrowed a whiffleball bat from some kids playing in the quad. I smacked Gucci in the rear, and got her to charge into the crowd.
The kids were stunned. They scattered quickly as I rained down blows and sprayed them in the face. The bat was bent in half. Gucci was helping as well, biting and scratching where she could. When Public Safety arrived, they understood the situation implicitly, and arrested all of the protesters. I was only five minutes late to my class.
The next day I received a letter from the campus Young Republicans asking if I'd like to join them as a faculty adviser after what happened. I of course told them to play hide and go fuck themselves. Then I turned on Passions.
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