Nickson was the sort of man that every man wished to be, a great man who stood in a position of absolute power and commanded terror from all those who were in his general area. He was superintendent.
Dodson got a call from Nickson the night of rag day, while watching Dumb and Dumber on TV.
“Hello.”
“Dodson, you bat, is that you?”
“Why yes it is. You must be administrator Nickson.”
“Of course you dumbbell, who else could it be?”
“Well I thought that it might be my wife since–”
“Dodson, I heard that you sent every kid who came to school home today.”
“Yes I did.”
“Why the hell would you do something like that?”
“Well, they all came to school in these ripped up shirts. It went against the dress code. Must be a new fashion or something.”
“If it’s fashionable, how can it be against the dress code?”
“I don’t know, why don’t you ask the person who wrote the dress code?”
“That person must be a damn idiot. How the hell do you write something that stupid? Who is that fool?”
“The one that wrote the dress code?”
“Yes, the nincompoop that wrote it.”
“Well, uh, that would be you.”
Nickson paused briefly, like a bull that had run into a wall instead of a person.
“I’m pretty damn sure that that dress code must be one fine piece of work then.”
“But you just said that it was stupid.”
“Are you saying that I’m a liar?”
“No, of course not. I just pointed out that you already said that your fine piece of work was stupid.”
“Now why would I say something like that?”
“Because it goes against fashion sense.”
“Who said anything about fashion sense?”
“I did, bu–”
“Then you’re just a complete idiot.”
“Wait just a sec–“
“You even sent all those kids today! Now why the hell would you do something like that?”
“I already told you, they all came to school in ripped up shirts.”
“So what?”
“It goes against the dress code.”
“Well it damn well should. We can’t let those kids show an inch of bared skin anywhere on their disgusting bodies.”
“So then why shouldn’t I have sent those kids home?”
“You sure as hell should have. Why didn’t you?”
“Um, I did send them home.”
“Good for you Dodson. Keep up the fine work. Good night.” Click.
Dodson hung up with a sense of wonder and turned back to Dumb and Dumber. He found that he could no longer watch after his conversation with Nickson, and turned it off to read a magazine, only to find an article on popular fashion, in which a slim model was posed wearing a ripped shirt with half a mouse on it. The phone rang again, and this time it was his wife, Mary.
“Sorry honey, I’m running a bit late today, I got hung up at the office because my boss insisted that I go out and get him coffee and donuts since he’s putting in overtime today.”
“Sure. See you later then.”
Dodson hung up and wondered vaguely if Mary was cheating on him. Feeling bored, he turned the TV back on to find Desperate Housewives. The phone rang yet again.
“Dodson? You are an imbecile.”
“What?”
“Did you know that ripped shirts are all the rage now? It’s called fashion, you nimrod. Those kids were being fashionable.”
“Yes, I said that.”
“No, I said that. Are you dumb or something?”
“No, I’m not. I just said that I already said that those kids were being fashionable.”
“And I just said that you are a nimrod.”
“Yea, well– Huh? Is this Nickson?”
“Of course, you nimrod. See? I just called you a nimrod again. If you let yourself get pushed around like that all the time how are you ever going to advance in life?”
“Are you saying that you want me to stand up for myself?”
“Yes. What are you, a buffoon?”
“No, I’m not but I’m pretty sure that you are.”
Dodson sat waiting in his own sweat for Nickson to reply, which he did after a good two seconds.
“Dodson, where the hell did you come up with that sort of freshness?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Who told you that you could be so fresh with me?”
“I’m not sure.”
“You’re supposed to say that nobody did so I can rub your nose on my sleeve again.”
“Why would you want to do that?”
“The question is why wouldn’t you want to say nobody?”
“I didn’t.”
“And that was the problem! See, now we’re getting somewhere.”
“Where are we trying to go?”
“Nowhere, you monkey. Now who told you to be so fresh?”
“Nobody?”
“Then why the hell are you being so fresh then?”
“Because you told me to.”
Nickson’s voice quavered like a sick cow when he continued.
“I did most definitely not tell you to be fresh.”
“But you told me to stick up for myself.”
“Now why would I do something supportive like that?”
“I’m not sure.”
“It seems like you aren’t sure of anything at all. Are you sure your wife isn’t cheating on you?”
“Of cour– Hey, how did you know about that?”
“Know about what? Are you saying I’m not supportive?”
“Yes, I mean no.”
“You’re a pretty wishy-washy man aren’t you? You should stand up for yourself more.”
Nickson was the sort of man that every man wished to be, a great man who stood in a position of absolute power and commanded terror from all those who were in his general area. He was superintendent.
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