The life cycles of parasitic nematodes begins when dormant eggs recognize specific compounds secreted by the plant root (Figure 23.33). (...) As a result, the cell walls break down and neighboring cells are incorporated into a syncytium (see Figure 23.33A). (...) Roots infected by root knot nematodes form large cells, resulting in the establishment of the characteristic knot or gall, which also remains in close contact with the vasculature and provides the nematode with nutrients (see Figure 23.33B).
"Plant Physiology and Development" int'l 6e - Taiz, L., Zeiger, E., Møller, I.M., Murphy, A.
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Fan Fiction link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13712482/2/Syncytium
Full chapter below the cut. I’d recommend the fan fiction version, however, which includes all the italicized words which are not emphasized here.
September 11th, 7:30 AM
Darkness.
A light flicked on. It flickered a moment before settling. A pen sharpened... and subsequently broken. Whoops. A vase with three roses delicately placed right near a picture in frame with four occupants. Perfect.
Pinky clasped his hands together, sighed deeply, and tipped his square rimmed glasses down a little, the better to address his eager pupils.
"Good morning, class! I am Dr. Ronald Pinkus, Professor of Trozology!"
And he wrote upon the blackboard behind him with vigor as he said it, accidentally flipping the 'k' in 'Pinkus'. He turned back towards the crowd.
"But you can call me Pinky! Ha-ha-ha!"
It was a carrying little laugh, bouncing and pinging excitedly off the walls with a lonely echo.
"I'll be your teacher this semester, and that's because, well, I'm the only teacher of this subject!"
He giggled again. No one said anything.
"You'll be instructed on the topics of Poitilism, Narfonics, and, of course, Trozology. Allllllllll grades are final, except, of course, when they're not, in which case... I'll get back to you on that!" said he, chuckling to himself once more. "Now, are there any questions? Anyone? Yes! Nilly."
If Nilly had raised her hand, no one noticed. But, then again, no one seemed to care. Perhaps it was because Nilly had no hands to raise in the first place. Perhaps this was because Nilly was actually a sack of flour. Or perhaps it was because all the "students" were made up of things like an empty bottle of soda, a bag of corn chips, two toilet paper rolls stacked one on top of the other, and a plunger. Whatever the reason, only Pinky seemed to have recognized Nilly and her very silent question. He didn't seem to mind, however. On the contrary, he positively beamed, acknowledging his pitiful excuse for a pupil-laden classroom as if they were real mice, voles, hamsters, and shrews hanging onto his every word like campfire kids to a spooky story.
"Well, I'm glad you asked that, Nilly, because I happen to be verrrrry versed in the subject!" Pinky snickered, eyes half-lidded as he picked imaginary dirt from his fingers, looking in the direction of his students with a very devious smirk indeed.
Several doors down and around a corner, in the middle of a long hallway, a locker was being absolutely mutilated. Books, pencils, various household tools, and a half-eaten burrito wrapped in tin foil were carelessly tossed onto the floor, its aggressor in a state of pure panic.
"Ohhhhh, shoot. Where are they?!" Gadget growled, hair a little unkempt as she flung a notebook over her shoulder, almost hitting a passerby in the process.
"Hey! Watch it!" the boy mouse shrieked, dodging out of the path of the wayward notebook just in time.
Gadget didn't even seem to notice as she continued to tear through her locker, muttering angrily to herself as she threw a pencil case onto the floor. It burst open. One of the pencils popped out, rolling all the way across from the locker and underneath the door of room three-nineteen. On and on the little chartreuse pencil rolled, finally coming to rest with a soft 'plink' against Dr. Globetrotter's desk. His ear twitched at the sound and his head peered around the side of the desk at its source. There sat a thin, yellow pencil. He picked it up, frowning, and set it down on a far side of his desk.
"As I was saying," Globetrotter rang, clearing his throat, but he'd barely reached out for his mug of steaming hot coffee before the class was interrupted yet again, this time by a very haphazard-looking and goggle-less Gadget.
"Sorry I'm late," she mumbled, head down and gaze firmly directed at the floor as she shuffled past a barrage of staring eyes to plop into her seat between Maisy and Tillie. Gadget shut her eyes tight. She, along with everyone else in the room, knew what was coming, and they all held their breath in anticipation.
The unpleasant echo throughout the room was palpable as Globetrotter set down his mug, glaring.
"Oh, well, I suppose we all can just excuse Miss Gadget here from arriving two minutes past our start time. Obviously, she has more important things to do than be punctual. I guess my precious hours of time spent preparing for this class that will help all of you get a proper education simply don't matter in light of one tardily-inclined, mucilage-chewing student forgetting their pack of lime-flavored gum right before 7:30, is that right?"
Sarcasm dripped like venom from every syllable, causing Gadget to shrink ever lower in her seat. Somewhere in the class, journal boy jotted down "tardily-inclined" and "mucilage-chewing" under the ever-growing list of Globetrotter insults. Maisy glared at their teacher, but, like every other student, she didn't dare say anything. To retort meant a week's worth of detention, and they all knew that it was better to bite the bullet now than suffer the consequences for a harsh retort later.
"It's not like I spend all night grading your measly excuses for a thesis, carefully combing every paragraph for even a sliver of intelligence, while you're at home watching reruns of Dukes of Hazard..."
On and on it went, ironically cutting into his so-called "precious time" to teach. On and on he rolled, all the way up until 7:55 AM. The only good thing about it was that it was twenty-five minutes they didn't have to spend studying. Some had taken to drawing little sketches in their notebooks, others took the opportunity to sneak in a snack or two, and Tillie was full-on knitting.
Finally, he reached the end of his spiel. He took a deep, shuddering breath.
"Now... Seeing as that's hopefully enlarged your minds a little, please turn to page eighty-seven of your textbooks, as we delve into the absolutely incredible topic of Meiosis."
"'Incredible', my arse," Maisy muttered. "Couldn't find your goggles, huh?"
Gadget shook her head, too embarrassed to give a verbal reply.
"Oh, leave her alone. We've forgotten our fair share of trinkets before," Tillie whispered, putting away her knitting. "What are you so upset about? I thought you had hearts for Globetrotter."
Maisy didn't reply, but shot another scathing glare at Globetrotter as she pulled out her textbook.
"Trusting that we won't have any more interruptions," bit their teacher, shooting a look at Gadget as he said it, "I'd like you all to turn your attention to..."
Bang.
Everyone jumped, including Globetrotter. He turned behind him to stare at the wall. What...?
"A-As I was saying, please direct your attention to..."
BANG.
Nobody jumped this time, but Globetrotter once more turned sharply 'round to inspect the wall. The heck?
A few seconds passed. Nothing. Perhaps someone was just doing maintenance... in the unused classroom?
"Kindly direct your atten-"
BANG!
"Graaaaaaaaahhhh!" Globetrotter growled, storming out of the classroom and followed by a host of eyes watching him go. Gadget cautiously sat up in her chair as he went.
Down the hallways he trundled, shoulders hunched, every footstep a declaration of annoyance as he made for door two-ten, pushing aside the occasional student or teacher who dared cross his path. It was fortunate the door was a little ajar, for he kicked it open with such force that it flew open, BANGED against the wall, and reverberated so heavily that it shook the walls. Had it been closed the door handle probably would have broken along with it.
"What in CURIE'S name are you DOING?!" the angry little mouse shouted, smoke practically steaming off of him as he fumed, his fiery gaze trained squarely at the tall, lanky mouse in front of him.
Pinky was in mid-swing, one leg raised high up in the air as his paws clutched firmly around a wooden baseball bat. He was dressed in full baseball attire, and his classroom had been very primitively set up to resemble a sandlot of sorts, each of his "students" serving as the players. Globetrotter's explosion had thrown him off only a smidgen. If anything, Pinky beamed and waved at the newcomer.
"Mr. Globetrotter! You're just in time for the home run! Or... you would have been if you hadn't thrown me off just now," he giggled.
"Would you kindly explain why you're using your room as a sports arena?!" Globetrotter snapped.
"Oh! Well, Nilly here wanted to know if I was well-versed in the thrilling art of baseball, and I couldn't turn that one down 'cause, you know, I am. Hmhm!"
Globetrotter turned to look at this "Nilly", arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently.
"That's a sack of flour," he retorted, unimpressed.
Pinky gasped.
"How rude! He didn't mean it, Nilly. Did you, Brain? Say you're sorry to Nilly!"
"It's Brian, and I am not apologizing to an inanimate object! And I'd appreciate it if you would refrain from playing baseball in a classroom! Don't you realize you're disturbing the peace - upsetting my students and keeping me from my work?"
"Ohhhhhhhhh. Is your classroom on the other side of that wall?"
"Yes."
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Got it, Brain! We'll play baseball later, shall we?"
"You shall."
And with that, he stormed off... right into Olivia, in fact, who was in full delivery mode. The force of their impact knocked her backwards onto the floor.
"Ah! My letter!" she screeched, reaching for a little yellow note that had slipped out of her hands.
"Hmph," Globetrotter muttered, completely ignoring her as he trudged back to his classroom.
Olivia watched him go, reeling back a little at the slam of a door five seconds later.
"Ooo. Too angry. Too angry," she mumbled to herself, sprinting up to classroom two-ten and peering inside.
Pinky was now hard at work not playing baseball. All the chairs, tables, and "students" were being reshuffled to resemble a normal classroom again, the big television in the back rolled up to the front behind the main desk to serve as a new source of entertainment.
"Sorry, class. Baseball is canceled for the moment," apologized Pinky, hooking up the tv as Olivia tip-toed into the classroom and carefully shut the door behind her. "Oh well. That's why I brought my Honeymooners tapes, "he exclaimed, whipping out the tapes from the stand's shelf in a flourish. He was just about to pop one in when a light cough caught his attention. He turned around. There was Olivia smiling at him.
"Oh! Hello, Olivia!"
"Hello, Mr. Pinky," she said, a little shyly this time. "I've got something for you."
"Another letter?" he asked, taking it from her and reading:
Dear Mr. Pinkus,
I must regret to inform you that baseball or sports of any kind are not allowed in the hallways and classrooms. While I appreciate your enthusiasm, I also appreciate my job, and I can't very well keep it when there's a home run going on a few doors down. This is for your own sake. I do hope this reaches you before Globetrotter does...
Sincerely,
Mrs. Judson
"I think baseball in the school is a wonderful idea," Olivia piped up as Pinky read the letter, his ears lowering a little as he went over each word. "I heard we used to have a field, but... they got rid of that years ago." Her own little ears, round and pink, drooped at this. Pinky thought a moment.
"Well... perhaps we could make a petition?"
"Petition?"
"Certainly!" said he, setting down his tapes for a moment. "We could write up a letter saying we'd like a baseball stadium back on the lot, and if we get enough signatures..."
"We'll get one!" Olivia gasped, tiny hands tucking up against her chest in excitement.
"Well, maybe. It still has to pass the board of directors now, don't it?"
"We'll get a lot of signatures then. You get the form, and I'll get people to sign it!"
Pinky smiled.
"You've got yourself a petition there, Missy! I'll draw one up tonight!"
"Good good!" Olivia exclaimed, bouncing up and down, tam-o'-shanter bouncing this way and that. "So what do you teach?"
"Oh, a little of this. A little of that," Pinky said, dodging the question. "Do you like The Honeymooners?"
"The Honeywho?" she asked, shuffling about his desk and picking up one of the bunsen burners to peer into it with a curious eye.
"Now don't tell me you've never heard of one of the best television shows of all time!"
"Not really. I don't watch a lot of tv."
But whatever Pinky said next in response to this she didn't catch, for she had just discovered his notepad, and of the number of colorful stickers coating it, one in particular stood out to her. She gasped again.
"Is that a radish rose whatchamawhoozit?!"
Pinky was caught off guard. He stopped mid-sentence, stared at her, and slammed his hands down on the table, making her jump.
"You know what a radish rose whatchamawhoozit is?!"
"Look!" Olivia said, sweeping off her tammie, the better to see her fluffy ears. Hanging from each ear was a small earring, both shaped like radish rose whatchamawhoozits. "My mum used to use them for parties! I always liked them."
Pinky went wide-eyed.
"My mum did, too! You know... you're the first mouse I've met who knows what that is."
"I'm surprised most people don't know what that is!" Olivia giggled.
"Me too!" Pinky chuckled back, eyes a little misty.
For a moment they just stood there, smiling at one another, two radish rose whatchamawhoozit buddies meeting for the first time. There was something very comforting about it.
The slow tick, tick, tick of a wall clock nearby brought Olivia back to Earth, and she stepped back shyly.
"I... probably should go," she said, smiling. "She's probably waiting for me."
Pinky's face fell.
"We-.. uhh... would you like to stay for just a minute longer?"
"Sorry, but I really do have to go," replied Olivia regretfully, looking very much as if she didn't want to.
"Umm... what else do you like to do that's... not watching tv?"
"Well... umm... I do like to sing."
Pinky beamed, dug in his box, and pulled out a microphone attached to a small radio-looking device.
"Do you like karaoke?"
Olivia beamed.
Several doors down and one wall over, Globetrotter had everyone in a stupor. Gadget could barely keep her eyes open, one of the boys had taken to drawing circles over and over again in his notebook, and Maisy's brother was actually snoring. Perhaps Globetrotter would have cared if he hadn't been so engrossed in the exciting subject of Meoisis, one hand clasped firmly around a nearly-drained cup of coffee, the other brandishing a thick ruler at the blackboard behind him.
"The initial metaphase takes place when the homologous pairs travel along the metaphase plate. Kinetochore microtubles from the spindle poles attach to the-"
He stopped. His ears twitched. Some of the students lifted their heads, shifting in their seats. A distant sound of singing could be heard, just beyond the wall. Globetrotter frowned.
"Um. The microtubles attach directly to-"
It was soft at first, then it grew - louder, louder, louder. Pinky and Olivia's singing had escalated from a light hum to a crescendo and climbed all the way to the top in a full on opera. The student with the journal counted down on his fingers to his friend: three, two, one...
SNAP!
Right on cue, Globetrotter applied so much anger... or... pressure, rather, to his ruler that it snapped clean in half. Journal boy made a mark in his book: t'was the fourth one snapped this semester, apparently.
For the second time that morning, Globetrotter stomped out of his classroom, although this time he was followed, not by one student, not by two, but almost the entire class, albeit tepidly. Although he probably wouldn't notice them, considering the state he was in, caution was still advised... at least to a degree. Ronald Pinkus was in for it big time and they couldn't afford to miss this. They'd heard the rumors: that when Mr. B. got this flustered he'd actually physically vibrate, lose all mastery of the English language, and sometimes even spout intense poetry at the accuser. It was one of the only exciting things that happened in his classes and they sure as heck weren't going to pass up the opportunity when it presented itself.
Science room three-nineteen's teacher had barely managed four steps out the door, however, when he was approached by a tall lady mouse in a green dress. All the students moved back a pace, retreating into the classroom.
"Ah! Mr. Globetrotter. I was just coming to remind you that the teacher's conference is this weekend at 5:00 PM."
"Yes, Ms. Weatherby. I'll be there," he scratched, barely containing himself.
Ms. Weatherby stepped away, not the least bit perturbed, whether due to pure naivety or a lack of concern none could tell.
She was barely two feet away when Globetrotter continued his trek, down the hall and around a corner. His students followed at a careful pace. He'd just turned the corner when a boy vole with glasses knocked into him, his homework flying everywhere.
"M-Mr. B! I-I mean, Mr. Globetrotter!" he stammered, shaking from head to tail.
"What is it?!" Globetrotter growled, impatience growing by the millisecond.
"I-I-I just wanted to ask about the upcoming assignment. Is there any way I could turn mine in just... a day late? M-My mother is sick in the hospital, you see, and-"
But he was abruptly cut off as Globetrotter shoved him aside with a sharp, "NO!" to boot.
"O-Or I can just turn it in on time then! N-No biggie! Eheh...!" the vole stuttered, clutching the few remaining papers to his chest ever so tightly and quickly picking up the rest before running off. He jumped as he almost ran into Globetrotter's entire class. Gadget reached out a hand towards him, as if to apologize on Globetrotter's behalf, but Maisy stilled her with a shake of the head and a clutch of the paw. They tip-toed on.
Globetrotter was almost at door two-ten when plump Mrs. Judson came flying down the hallway.
"Globetrotter! Don't you even think about touching that door!"
The little mouse grumbled.
"I have EVERY RIGHT to open that door!" he shouted, already trembling. A couple of the boys in the crowd started bouncing up and down excitedly. This was just getting better and better. They might actually get a full show!
"You don't know what that poor boy's been through. He might be a complete boob, but you leave him alone! Let me talk to him," Mrs. Judson spouted, paws on her hips as she went face-to-face with Globetrotter.
"Mrs. Judson," Globetrotter replied, full on vibrating now, "If you don't get out of my way, I swear I'll report you to the principle for unlawful involvement in a teacher's affairs!"
"Hmph! 'Unlawful involvement.' There's no such thing."
"Oh, isn't there? I can MAKE it a thing! And," he added, voice low and threatening, "I'll tell them about Marley."
Mrs. Judson went wide-eyed.
"You wouldn't dare."
"I would," Globetrotter seethed.
With brows furrowed and lips tense, she turned in a flourish and marched off, shooting his class a harsh glare as she rounded a corner, shaking her head at them.
"You watch your step," she hissed.
Some of them exchanged worried glances. It was incredible Globetrotter hadn't even noticed the crowd following him; so enslaved by anger was he. It was almost impressive. The entire group collectively held their breath as their teacher, fuming, flung open the door.
"WHAT THE BLAZES ARE YOU-"
But at this, he stopped, for what met Globetrotter's eyes rendered him speechless.
"Aaaaaaand wwwwwwwelcome to the show!"
The room was unrecognizable. A sparkling blue floor complemented an equally sparkling purple stadium decorated with red velvet curtains, all so dazzling that Globetrotter had to rub at his eyes to stop himself from going blind. The entire place looked like a game show one might see on tv - Wheel of Fortune or Who Wants to be a Millionaire? Energetic, happy-go-lucky music blared on a little radio in a corner, completing the effect, and a seemingly disembodied voice, all flamboyant and hospitable, dominated the scene.
"Come on in! Take a seat!" remarked the voice, which turned out to be Pinky's as he scooted Globetrotter into the room and onto a chair right next to Olivia, who waved at him.
"That's my new teacher!" she whispered excitedly to him, pointing at Pinky, who was fully decked out in a purple suit and bow tie. Globetrotter sputtered.
"Now, h-h-hold on! I need to tell you-"
"Why, yes. You do need to tell me your name, good Sir!" interrupted Pinky, holding up a microphone right in front of Globetrotter's face. "And you are?"
"I... ma... puh... G-Globetrotter, b-but that-"
"Ladies and gentleman, give it up for GLOOOOOOBETROTTER!"
An invisible crowd cheered. Olivia clapped.
"And your name, young lady?"
"Olivia!"
"OLIVIA!"
More clapping.
By this time, all of Globetrotter's class was pressed up against two-ten's door, eagerly peering in at the activity with wide, bugged out eyes.
"Now, folks, you know we just completed the singing competition, with an outstanding performance by little miss Olivia."
The invisible crowd cheered again, and Olivia blushed.
"But now it's time for the moment you've all been waiting for! Drum-roll, please," requested Pinky, and right on cue... there came a thundering drum-roll.
The entire class was now shuffling into the room, taking spots at the back that had actually been set up for a proper crowd. They filled every seat.
"TUUUUUURBULENT TRIVIAAAAAAA!"
Clapping and cheering from the invisible crowd on... the radio? another dimension? ... was now mixed in with actual applause from Globetrotter's class. He turned to stare at them, flabbergasted. He had an actual audience?! How embarrassing...
Two pedestals, each with a big red button in their centers, rose up out of the floor to rest in front of Globetrotter and Olivia.
"Now, you all know the rules!" Pinky continued, gesturing to a giant board behind him that was laden with a plethora of different topics. "Our contestant with the most points picks a topic, and both try to answer it! Whoever gets the most points at the end of the show wins!"
And he jumped up and down at this, Olivia mirroring him as she bounced around in her seat. Globetrotter was silent. He wouldn't say anything. He couldn't say anything. Every time he opened his mouth to voice his complaints, no sound came out, as if he was so caught off guard by the affair that he simply didn't know how to react. And rightly so. He simply had no words for this.
"Olivia! You're up first, my dear, so pick a subject!"
Olivia stood up in her seat, thought for a moment, then pointed at one of the topics.
"Ummm... I pick... Science!"
"Science it is! And heeeeeere's your question!"
And the little box marked 'SCIENCE' flipped over to reveal a small paragraph, which Pinky read out:
The first known telescope was submitted as a patent to the Netherlands government in 1609 by which spectacle maker?
Someone slammed down on their red button.
"Yeeeeeeeeeees?" Pinky questioned, sporting a wide, toothy grin.
Surprisingly, it was Globetrotter who answered. He actually was standing up out of his seat, looking mad as a hare.
"That's preposterous! It was patented in 1608, not '09, and the answer is Hans Lippershey!"
"CORRECT!"
Ding ding ding ding ding! went Globetrotter's big red button, as it flashed on and off a luminous green color. He sat down almost shyly in his seat, as if surprised he'd found himself out of it, as his entire class clapped and cheered. He turned to look at them with an expression of absolute surprise.
"Congratulations! You've just earned ten points! But Olivia is still in the lead with thirty. What's your next topic, Olivia?" Pinky asked, an open hand gesturing to the board.
"Ummmm... music!" she piped.
"You got it!" Pinky exclaimed, as the next little box labeled 'MUSIC' flipped over. Once again, Pinky read aloud:
Who composed this famous piece?
And a deep, booming tune played loud and clear throughout the room. Olivia slammed down on her button.
"Go ahead, Olivia!"
"Mozart!" she shouted out, but...
EHNG!
Wrong!
"Ohhhh. I'm so sorry, Olivia! But it's not Mozart! Do we have any other takers? Anyone?"
Globetrotter's button rang again, albeit with a bit more hesitance this time.
Ding ding ding ding ding! rang the little button again as ten more points went up on Globetrotter's side of the scoreboard. The crowd went wild. Some of his students had actually gotten popcorn from... somewhere, and looked as though they were having the time of their lives.
"Go, Mr. B!" some shouted out, and, "Trotter! Trotter!" others cheered. "You can do it!" one gal said. Globetrotter's ears perked up a touch. They were actually... supporting him?
"Oooooo. Globetrotter's giving you a run for your money, Olivia! Better pick a good one!" Pinky egged on.
"Hmm. I piiiiiiiick... mathematics!" she shouted, standing in her seat, two pink paws set firmly on the pedestal in front of her.
"Let's see that math question!" rolled Pinky, pointing at a box with 'MATH' written on it in big, bold letters, and reading out:
The square root of 6,428 is...
Before Pinky could even list out the options, Globetrotter's red button was punched.
"80.1748090113!"
"CORRECT!" Pinky yelled, and the crowd exploded. He was now tied with Olivia!
Globetrotter actually went slightly pink in the face as his class whooped and hollered and cheered him on. He almost dared to smile a little. This was... actually... kinda fun...?
"Aaaaaaand now! For the FINAL question! This one... is a TIE BREAKER," Pinky exclaimed dramatically. At this, all the lights dimmed at once, with spotlights thrown on Globetrotter and Olivia only. "Since you both have thirty points each, I'll be picking the question," Pinky continued. "Whoever gets this one right... is the ultimate winner."
The music boomed just as dramatically. Globetrotter actually swallowed thickly. The crowd went silent.
"Here... is your final question, in 'Entertainment'," said Pinky, and he read out:
Which character in The Honeymooners was known for his catchphrase, "Bang, zoom, right to the moon!"
Globetrotter began to sweat, not because he was oblivious, even though it was common knowledge that he rarely watched tv, but because he was embarrassed that he knew the answer. He had to answer, though. Surely, the kid wouldn't know. Would she...? And yet...
SLAM! went Olivia's paw onto bright red button. No way.
"Olivia?" Pinky asked, all ears.
"Mary Poppins!" she rang out.
ENGH! went her button.
"Ohhhhhh. I'm sorry, but that's not the right answer! Globetrotter?"
He was sweating all the more now. He'd surely be teased forever for this, but he couldn't not answer a question he knew the response to...
"Globetrotter? Ten seconds!" Pinky countered.
"Come on, Trotter!" one of his students shouted.
"Yeah, you can do it, Mr. B! Come on!"
And more shouts... and more... and more built up, until finally...
SLAM! went Globetrotter's paw on the big red button.
The din was deafening. Balloons and confetti actually fell from the sky as the lights went up all around Globetrotter, Olivia, Pinky, and the entire class as triumphant music was played. Olivia was jumping up and down, actually hugging Globetrotter, not at all perturbed that she'd lost, as the crowd poured out from their seats to congratulate their teacher. Globetrotter was completely stiff. How the heck was he supposed to react to this?
"Congraaaaaaaatulations, Globetrotter! Let's see what you've won!"
There were no show girls, so Pinky himself had to run off-set, grab a selection of items, and fly back onto the stage in front of Globetrotter.
"You win: an orange juicerator, a block of Worcestershire cheese, and a week's supply of paperclips!"
All these he dumped into Globetrotter's hands. Everyone clapped and cheered, and the celebration might have gone on forever had the bell not rung.
"Oh! That's the bell! Time to go, everyone!" Pinky directed, and they all filed out of the classroom, Globetrotter and all, Pinky bringing up the rear. He was still in his purple outfit. "Everybody go on to your next class! Go on! Thanks for playing!" he said, spending an extra second or two to thank Olivia for being such a good sport and handing her a bag of chips. She beamed, thanked him, and skipped off, crunching on them happily. Globetrotter remained, the only participant who hadn't quite taken it all in.
"What... just happened?" he asked, turning to stare at Pinky, his bulky prizes still clasped in his arms.
"You'd better get back to your room, Brain! Your next class is about to start!" was all that Pinky said as he gently pushed him forward, ducked back into his classroom, and shut the door behind him.
Globetrotter just stood there for a moment, staring at door two-ten, before looking down at the batch of prizes he was still holding. Without a word, he slowly, almost drunkenly, meandered back to his classroom. With some difficulty, he opened the door, set down his newfound possessions upon his desk, and breathed in and out, slowly, deeply...
What... had just happened? Never in his life had he ever experience anything like that, not in this school, not in public, not... anywhere, for that matter. It was a time-waster. It was ridiculous. It was... fun? He hated to admit that to himself: that somewhere, deep down, he'd managed to enjoy something so asinine. And yet...
He took a minute to go through each of the "prizes". An orange... juicerator, it was called? It was a portly thing, about half the length of his forearm, and sporting a curved spout that looked a bit like a faucet. How pointless. Unlikely he'd ever find a use for such an item. He'd never even heard of the thing until now. He tossed it in an unused drawer. The second was a block of Worcestershire cheese. That wasn't... all bad. He quite liked this type. In fact, it was his favorite. How did that bumbling idiot know that? Last of all was the "week's supply of paperclips". Handy, he supposed. Nothing wrong with some extra tools for one's classroom. These he put in a top drawer that was visited much more frequently.
He sighed again and stuck his hands in his back pockets. Something crinkled against his right paw... Huh?
He pulled out a note.
Thanks for playing with us! You have a lovely smile. - Pinky
Globetrotter blinked, taken aback, and was caught off guard at a sharp knock on his door. He tossed the note in the trash.
"C-Come in!" he stammered.
It was two of his students: journal boy and his friend.
"Sorry, Mr. B! We forgot our backpacks!" journal boy said, as the two mice ran to grab their packs. But as they headed back towards the door, they stopped. "By the way, um... congratulations, Mr. B!"
"Yeah, that was awesome!" his friend exclaimed.
And with that, they exited the room, closing the door behind them.
Globetrotter stood rooted to the spot. He'd surely die from all these positive comments. Never had he received so many before; at least, not under this roof. He peered into the trash can, paused a moment, then extracted the little note from it. He read it again:
Thanks for playing with us! You have a lovely smile. - Pinky
He settled on those last words again, for they stuck out to him.
You have a lovely smile.
And for a moment, though no one could see him, though no one was watching, he held the little note close to his chest, closed his eyes... and smiled.
-----------------------------
Author's Notes:
- Ferrum is the Latin term for Iron (Fe), which is sometimes found in paperclips.
- The nickname "Mr. B." is actually an obscure reference to another fandom I'm in. If you want the full story, message me. Heh.
- Globetrotter's reaction to Gadget being late was inspired by a friend's story in which one of her actual teachers would respond in a similarly harsh fashion to late students.
- Yes, Olivia's radish earrings are absolutely a reference to Luna Lovegood's equally unusual earrings.
- All of the information about meiosis I got directly from Wikipedia.
- The game show part of this story was my favorite part to write. Originally, I was going to have the whole thing be a lot more low-key, but this is technically a cartoon world, after all, so I figured... why not go all out?
- I finished this at 1:35 AM last night, two days after a surgery and while in pain. I have no regrets.
A mist screams through some corridors at a run-down health facility at midnight – a mist, rainbow red. Pangs of silence are wheeled across a rural order of relentless pain, where finite lives and mortal dreams become white sheets and grim lights. A nocturnal tug between death and disease unfolds in desire – a reality, on each side of the hurt divide. The skin acts out, the serpent hides within – it’s happening. For as long as it’s happening, they say here, it’s alive.
In slits and steel, silver skill and slain solitude, life is poetic – an undoing, an addiction. A glass of light – manual, intuitive – the antithesis of malaise and malady. On shoulders of grit and grime, where breath and blood are one and more, the metaphor lives and molecule despairs: an incision metamorphs. The creeping bleed sprouts, and slips to float in gory, glistening, and beautiful.
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