MARINE GYM TEACHER
"Hi, I came to you today to complain about one of your newly hired gym teachers. Little Bobby has been complaining about him. He says that he has violent outbursts of anger and disciplines the children a bit harshly for only 13 years of age. Also, is it really necessary to tell everyone war stories and teach children how to polish boots?"
"Mrs. Sandra, I'm terribly sorry, but he is all we can afford at the moment. Our budget is very low this fiscal year and he was the cheapest that we could hire. In fact he offered to work for free if we would let him hunt two deer out of the nature reserve, per month, and bed at least one virgin schoolgirl during the year. We hastily declined, however, and gave him a paycheck that is enough to buy food and call-girls. Hell, he even agreed to sleep in the bomb shelter which saved us another $300 per month. No one has even been down there in years!"
MONDAY 0700 HOURS
"Alright you little maggots. First order of business 10 miles of running in formation."
One of the schoolchildren screamed. "Ahh, sir. That is too much I'll die."
A hint of anger showed on the marines face, which could be seen throughout his entire head with his close cut high-and-tight haircut. "You can't run 10 miles marine! They put us out in the desert 100 miles from any reserve or hangar for two weeks with one weeks supply of food, a canteen of water, and a guide to finding potable water. You can't run a measly 10 miles?"
Another schoolchild spoke up. He was a bit plump. "Sir, we aren't marines. We are just kids. The oldest of us isn't yet 15."
"No excuse. We fought with Lebanese children that didnt even have peach fuzz yet. You boys just don't have the morale. Get in line shortest to tallest. Ugliest to prettiest. Fattest to skinniest. Dumbest to smartest." A short pause. "Nope, you're not smart. You're pretty stupid back of the line."
"Repeat after me halflings. I ain't got but a plastic box of lunch. My mom feeds me nice and plump. I run like a little girl. Hoorah. Kill kill kill!!!!" Short pause. "Don't repeat that last part kids. War's over."
A schoolchild spoke up to be heard. "Sir, I have to go to the bathroom."
"Just go while jogging, son. No one will judge you here that can't be punished. Make sure you sissies punch while you jog. Strengthens you up for terrorists." The gym teacher stopped the formation briefly to punch the air a few times. He circled round a particular spot he certainly liked and punched it multiple times as if it were an opponent. He threw jabs, uppercuts, left hooks, and right hooks. "This ones for you, sargeant. Bam bam. Boom. Got him. No more terrorists. Move along children. You're safe now."
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