Sometimes we think; that’s when we should stop. ~ V. Shnodgrate
This professor returned to V. Shnodgrate’s poetry class.
Yes, I did.
You see, Shnodgrate doesn’t at all like Dick’s poetry. So, I thought it was time these two chaps should meet.
I do fear that Dick wasn’t wearing a shirt. But he was wearing pants, and a thick belt.
Amelia gasped when we came in.
It was a small class today.
Just Amelia and Fats Henry.
As soon as we entered…Shnodgrate stared at us—menacingly.
“Uhh…yes,” I began. “Mr. Shnodgrate this is Dick Hercules and his agent, Walt.”
“Well…” Shnodgrate said, approaching us slowly. “If it isn’t that fellow who writes horrid poetry…”
“It is I, Diklitous Phantasos! What ho! And behold! I stand before thee with the strength of myself!” He struck a shirtless pose, flexed his bicep, and fist-bumped his own forehead.
It looked a bit like this:
It’s ridiculous to see in person, for sure. But Dick is so sure of himself, he doesn’t suspect for a moment that he looks a bit ridiculous.
Shnodgrate scoffed. “Animal!”
“This is stupid,” Fats Henry mumbled. “I am leaving—soon.”
Then there was a sound.
More like a squeal.
A girly one.
And then he did it: Dick spied Amelia. And she became an interest.
“Oh dear and a few,” this professor said.
“See?” Shnodgrate put in, staring at me. “Look what you’ve done, you goose-nubbin, bringing him here!”
And he was talking to me.
“Ahoy now and hello my lady lovely!” Dick said, leaning in.
That’s when Walt stepped in. He tried to put a stop to it. Like a driver might put his arm out when braking, to stop a passenger from going forward.
That never works, you know. (It’s a bad practice.)
Well, it didn’t this time, anyway.
“Who invited this manimal to my poetry class?” Shnodgrate said. “Go ahead, P.VJ, admit what I already know!”
I was in a tight position, and I said the first thing I could think of:
“Walt did!” I said. He was Dick’s agent, after all.
“No way!” said Walt. “Not true!”
“Well…you’re here, aren’t you?” said Shnodgrate.
“Well…uh,” said Walt.
He was caught. It was awful.
Shnodgrate squinted and said, “And who brought you, Walt?”
Walt pointed to this professor.
This professor stammered. “Well, I only brought him, ‘cause he does a good job of watching over Dick. Dick can get out of control otherwise. Isn’t that so, Dick?”
But Mr. Hercules was focused on Amelia—and she seemed upset.
In truth, she was staring at this professor. I think she wanted help.
Dick Hercules was maybe leaning over her.
“Step back and give the lady some space!” Fats Henry roared, pushing Dick backwards. “I’ve had about enough of you!”
Oh dear, I thought. It was going to be a fight.
“Dick,” suggested Walt. “Perhaps it’s time to read your poem!”
That’s always a good way to curtail violence involving Dick. Getting him to read his own ‘poetry’ is a good distraction.
Dick nodded and smiled. He pulled a crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket and smoothed it out against his pants. He cleared his throat and began to recite:
What’s love got to do…got to do with it?
What’s love…but a second-hand emotion?
What’s love got to do…got to do with it?
Who needs a heart when a heart can be broken?
A silence fell upon the room as the words sunk in.
Shnodgrate was wearing the face of a victorious chap who’s just about to eat the egg. “Worthless, just as I had supposed.”
“Wait a minute,” said Walt. “Let me see that paper. Your ‘poetry’ sounds a lot like a Tina Turner song.”
Dick crumpled up his paper. He used it to wipe a tear from his eye, then shoved it into his pants pocket and turned to go. The door slammed behind him as he exited.
Amelia sighed, then made an angry noise, I fear.
“How mean!” she yelled, getting to her feet. “Someone should do something about it!” She slammed the door, too, on the way out.
Then Shnodgrate turned his attention to Walt, “And you, sir…”
“I’m going too! You’ve hurt his feelings!” said Walt, and left.
Shnodgrate turned to Fats Henry. “Now…what are you doing here?”
“Well, I was getting taught poetry!” he almost roared.
That’s when this professor did a move and found the door.
Big thanks to Mr. Walt Walker who coauthored this story with the professor.
We could never have gotten Dick here without him.
He is to blame, in truth.
Definitely check out the beginning to this tale, here. It’s starts somewhere else, see.