The Field Trip Part VI

“Mr. Vancouver, the pimp said I have a nice ass,” Ginny says.

“Peter, shock the pimp,” I say.

“You keep that mutha fuckin’ thing away from me,” the pimp cries, trying to struggle free from his handcuffs. His pink fedora with the blue feather falls off his head as he tries to struggle free from his bonds.

Peter retrieves the cattle prod which is propped in the corner of the classroom. He walks to the front of the room to where I have the specimens tied and jams the cattle prod in the pimps ribs.

“Take that you nasty fleabag,” Peter says.

The pimp convulses and froths at the mouth. I can’t say I feel sorry for the bottom feeder. He’s made a nice life for himself exploiting others and now it’s time for him to feel their pain.

The whore is screaming. Some of the children start to cry. Wimps. This guy would sell their souls for an ounce of crack and here they are feeling sorry for him. If I teach these children anything it will be to not feel bad for the cocksuckers of the world. They will be better off for it.

I scratch myself. “Okay, Peter, that’s enough. I think Mr. Pimp has learned his lesson.”

“People will be looking for me,” the cop says, sweat running off his brow like a mini-waterfall.

“Peter, before you go back to your seat please stick another donut in the policeman’s mouth,” I say. “Okay, class this afternoon we will be examining the different specimens we captured in the city. I want everyone to pay attention because there will be a test Friday on what we learn here today.”

The class groans.

“Mr. Vancouver?”

“Yes, Amber what is it?”

“Why is Charlie the janitor handcuffed like the city dwellers?” Amber asks.

“Well, since we didn’t capture a crack head in the city I thought Mr. Vech would make a good substitute. He’s a drunk which is another form of addiction. He also grew up in the city and came to the country only a few years ago to avoid having to pay child support.”

“Oh,” Amber says.

“Mr. Vancouver?” Billy says.

“Oh, I see your up from your nap, Billy. I want to tell you that you did a wonderful job biting that policeman and saving my life. You will receive a B- minus for the day. You would have earned an A if you hadn’t broken the penis off that statue and started the whole mess.”

“Can I have my marble penis back?” Billy asks.

I remove the penis from the pocket of my trousers. “I don’t see why not.”

Billy sprints to my desk and grabs the marble penis from my hand. I’m beginning to worry about that boy’s sexuality.

“You let me go. You all crazy,” the Korean store owner says.

Peter stuffs a chalkboard eraser in his mouth.

“Good show, Peter,” I say. I open my Country Bumpkins Guide to the City and read: The politician is a man or woman who is consumed with the notion of controlling others. They are often elected to their positions by a vote and are easily bribed--.”

“I never took a bribe in my life,” Senator Rantorum says. He jerks madly trying to break free from his handcuffs and leg irons.

I close the book. “Such anger, Senator Rantorum. Shouldn’t I be the one that is mad at you? Didn’t you try to avoid paying tuition for your children by purchasing a house in Pennsylvania and claiming it as your primary place of residence? Maybe one of these children would have liked to attend a fancy private school too but they couldn’t afford it, your children could and yet still you tried to rip off the state of Pennsylvania. What do you think of that class?”

There is a chorus of boos and someone says “Cocksucker.” I’m pretty sure that was Billy. I think there is hope for that boy yet.

“Let me go you damn psycho,” Rantorum yells.

“Tsk-tsk, Senator Rantorum. We must set a good Christian example for the downtrodden.”

This is all the goading Rantorum can take. I can see it in his eyes as they morph. We are about to see the true politician. He wrenches right and left, his suit coat splitting at the shoulders. The pole he is chained to breaks free.

The children scream. There is chaos in the classroom. Before I can react Rantorum is on top of me with his handcuffed hands around my throat.

“My family deserves free schooling,” he says.

“And these kids don’t,” I manage to get out.

Things begin to go black and then I hear a dull thud and Rantorum falls off of me. I sit up gasping for air.

Billy is standing over us with the marble penis in his hand and a smile on his fat cheeks.

“Thank-you, Billy, I say.

Outside I hear the wail of police sirens and I know that the gig is up but I’m prepared and I won’t go out without a fight.

“I used it like a Billy club,” Billy says. “No pun intended.”

“Right, Billy and by the way that was a horrible joke. Okay, class let’s man the positions we talked about in case of an emergency. Peter, bar the door and then give Mr. Rantorum a shot of horse tranquilzer.”

“Are we going to die?” Ginny asks.

“Someday, Ginny, someday,” I say.

“Mr. Vancouver, this is the police,” a voice calls over a bullhorn. “We know you’ve kidnapped a host of people from the city. We want you to release the hostages and the children and come out with your hands up.”

“Peter, prepare the Kool-Aid,” I say.