Part 20: Hot for Teacher
18. Hot for Teacher
Tutoring? Ugh, I hate that creepy little kid
You say that about every kid. Well, yes, but must I? Yup. Tell you what though, how about I give you a delicious cake at the end of September? Cake?! Wait, is this another lie? Maybe.
I'll get you some day, old man! 
...so while most analyses of Zimbardo's experiment comes to the rather obvious and frankly, dim-witted observation that power corrupts, the thing most often ignored is how fun it is to brutalizing other human beings.
Ooooooh.
Fuck no, we're just here to keep her out of the grubby sausage-like fingers of that fat child molestor.
Her work at the church done, Lizzie strolls through town before heading home.
Ow, GODDAMN! Did you just stab me in the face for no fucking reason? I was just going shopping!
In full armour? Because shit like this keeps happening all the time.
In retrospect, stabbing little girls might not be such a viable career path.
Hello, little girl. Want to come over to my place?
I dunno... you're really kind of creepy. I'll give you money. Yippee! LIZZIEEEEE! 
I'm sorry, father. I'll break it off. Darn tootin'.---
Obviously the lessons arent sinking in, so it's more tutoring for you! I don't see how teaching is supposed to make me any less likely to wander off with strangers. I... GO TO YOUR ROOM.
...and proper padding, you can still produce incapacitating pain without leaving any physical evidence of injury, only lasting mental trauma. I love you, Lizzie!---
Excuse me, is Lizzie home?
Master, that pervert is here again to see the Mistress. Shall I let him in? Sure, just let him right in so he can feel up Lizzie with his damp, clammy hands all he likes.
At once, Master. You're not good with sarcasm, are you? Also, Lizzie, GET AWAY FROM THAT FREAK!
The stress gets to Lizzie, and she takes off to the forest for a different rendevouz.
Lizzie returns home, a little cheerier than usual.
I'd be happier if you'd stop running off with anyone who throws money at you. Aw, are you still mad about that? Alright, I promise I won't be his mistress anymore. Well, good. You're still not getting out of having to teach that creepy lil kid though.
Lizzie! What did you just promise me?! Relax, I'm not his mistress. Well, that's good. He wants me to be part of a harem. LIZZIEEEEE! Get your things packed, we're leaving town!
---
Phew. Well, maybe all I needed was some time away.
Wha... where's Liz?
Oh, your friend to pick her up after she'd finished. What. Friend?---
Elsewhere;
I still don't see any candy in here... It's right in the back, just hop in the carriage and look for it!---
I swear, just cutting my wrists open is looking like a really good option right now.
LIZZIEEEE! What? I didn't do anything! What? Oh... sorry, I've just gotten used to beating a fat bald man to death at this time every month. 
Why haven't they... oh. Apparently you're too old and ugly for them to even bother with now. DAD! No backtalk young lady!
I'm glad we sorted that out. Now, I did promise you a little present if you stuck through it all, didn't I?
Cake? Cake!
This cake is delicious!
Glad to see you enjoyed it. Now let's go see what our Cube's got scheduled for you. Well, sir, it looks like it's time for the Harvest Festival again. The only thing Lizzie hasn't tried her hand in is the art exhibition. But...
This is a joke right? Hahahaha, yup! Nearly got you Papa! Heh, nice one Liz. Now let's get goingI'll get you later.
What's the matter Lizzie? You're not sca-red are you? ... Ha! I knew it! Lizzie is a big cowaAWhouuuUUUFF! Now hand over all your money if you want to live. Oh no. And all your clothes too. N-no way! 
Hahahaa, look at me, I'm a ma-gi-cian girl!
Frankly speaking, it's all a big waste of time and money, but why do I care? Go on about your business and the judges will be back at the end of the month to pick out the least undeserving of these abominations and shower the artist with wealth and fame. Assholes. His Majesty the King is eager as always to view your entries.
The many people who have gathered at the festival walk around looking at the paintings and commenting on them...
It seems that Lizzie's painting received quite a lot of attention. Whatever. The exhibition is OVER. The impartial*cough* judges will decide the winners of the gold, silver and copper medals.And so, the day comes for the judges to make their announcement.
The copper medal goes to Rodon's 'Nekraut Plays the Flute', a most graphic and disgusting work. His Majesty the King grants to rodon the sum of 800g.
Thank you very much. Next, the silver medal goes to Filkins' 'Very Extravagant Dining Table', with 93 points. You get 1200g, scum.
...thanks. And finally, this year's gold medal goes to...
This is an extreme honor. My father will be so happy for me!
Lizzie, you are quite skillful. May you go on to paint many more such wonderful works.
Show's over, everyone go home!---
Meanwhile, in an parallel universe...
No... you can't do this! Why, Your Majesty... are you afraid? Only a fool would say no! You will eat it. I can make you. No... NooooooooAWMPH! Ohpf... deaah gawwd. Itsh*gulp* delicious. There's... there's no more, is there? No, there is not. General! Strike me down, then have every last man, woman and child put to the sword. There's no point going on anymore, not now that it's all gone...
At once, sire. Mwahahhahahahahahahahaaaaaaa!
---
October's done, and Lizzie's now too refined and ugly to be a target for creepy older men, so that's one problem solved. And only six months to go before Lizzie leaves the nest.
