Home : Archive : TSV 21-30 : TSV 28 : Fiction


By Jessica Smiler

As I bebopped down the corridor to the ace sounds of the TLR&R music station coming from my tape deck, I heard a whisper. Someone making fun of me or my friends? I turned around, instantly prepared to take on whoever it was with my baseball bat. Oops! The school scu... I mean, Principal, was behind me. He seemed to be miming.

‘Pardon, Mr B?’ I said politely.

He kept mouthing words at me (charades?) and waving his hands around. I wondered vaguely if he were trying to dance.

Suddenly I clicked, he wanted to talk to me! Obligingly I turned down my radio. A little bit.

‘Turn it off,’ he said.

With a disgruntled sigh I turned it off, right in the saxophone solo, too.

Mr B was bright red. He mopped his face with his hanky before starting his tirade. ‘You may think that you can ignore the rules and regulations of this school, young lady, but I am going to show you that it does not pay! There has been an explosion in the art rooms!‘

‘Really?’ I said, feigning surprise. ‘Wicked! How big?’

‘Don't play innocent with me, miss, I know it was you and I'll prove it! And why aren't you wearing acceptable clothing? Bike pants are not acceptable!‘

‘Hey, at least I've got better taste than some people I know.’ I looked meaningfully at his oh-so-trendy outfit. Yuck! How pretentious.

Mr B spluttered a bit and then stalked pompously down the corridor.

‘Hey, what was that crack about better taste than others? You weren't referring to I, one hopes.’

I turned with a grin. ‘Argh, I'm blind!‘ I screamed in mock anguish.

The Doctor laughed. Now he really is pretentious. I mean, ‘The Doctor’ - what kind of name is that? But at least he wasn't a complete toerag like the others.

‘C'mon Doc,’ I said. ‘The Master's cooking up something special down at the electronics lab, calls it a sonic wrench.’

The Doctor bowed elaborately. ‘After you, Rani.’ And she thinks I'm pretentious, ‘The Rani’?

‘No Doctor, after you.’

Together we walked off, heading towards the electronics section, the Doctor's bright pink and neon green clothes almost blinding me. Huh! The Doctor! Très pretentious. After all, the Doc's name is...

This item appeared in TSV 28 (April 1992).

Index nodes: Fiction