This was an assignment at school, where you had to write a story about what would happen if you didn't follow safety instructions during a lab. It's quite funny, making fun of several teachers and students, and I hope you'll read it.

The gentle sounds of teenagers snoring pulled Mr. Smith out of his long-winded lecture. His hand paused, pointing to a model of a nerve cell, wondering what in the name of Poland Springs was going on. Several students had their heads on the desks, and one was even falling out of his chair! Bewildered, Mr. Smith addressed the class.

"Uh, dudes...what's up?"

A few students blinked curiously, obviously wondering where they were. Mr. Smith, however, was clueless.

"Are you like...stoned?"

A few of the students caught themselves at mid-nod.

Suddenly, a hand shook in the air. The owner of this fine hand was a blonde girl with a pink tank top, pink sunglasses, and jeans with little red hearts on them. Her pink-polished toenails wiggled, and she giggled, waving her hand in the air.

"Yes, Miss Gwvehkhzenzohwski?"

She giggled, tossing her long hair behind her shoulder,

"Mr. Smith!" she laughed, "I'm just Kit-Kat, remember?"

"Oh, yes." said Mr. Smith uncertainly, "What is the problem?"

"Well, Mr. Smith," she giggled, for the thousandth time, "You're boring!"

Mr. Smith was appalled. Him, boring? Absurd! Thrill was his middle name! Well, he had his mother to blame for that, but still! How was listing every property of a nerve cell boring? He looked back at his dazed students, and realized they had been sleeping!

Sleeping!

He had to say something. Something funny, something intelligent. Something to prove he was not boring!

"I'm...boring?"

"Yes!" Kit-Kat giggled, "Can't we, like, cut something up, or like, mix some chemicals, or like, light a fire!"

"Light a fire?" said Mr. Smith blankly.

"Oh yes, we must!" she said firmly, in between giggles.

"We could burn nerve cells," he mused.

"Exactly," said Kit-Kat.

Mr. Smith spent the next fifteen minutes preparing a lab, which including removing nerve cells from the class valedictorian's brain, putting them in a cooking pot, and heating them over a Bunsen Burner.

His eyes roamed happily over his class. They were awake, they were learning! He'd have to brag to Mr. Lovering about it, because he kept beating him at keeping classes alive. This would be the talk of the school.

He watched Kit-Kat for awhile, whom he considered his personal savior. She was giggling with her friends, and leaning across her cooking pot to flirt with a jock. Mr. Smith watched her long, shiny blonde hair for a moment, before he realized it was swinging very close to the fire! With a yell, he ran to her lab table.

But it was too late. Because gasoline makes hair super shiny, her hair blazed like a forest fire. It took her ten or so seconds to notice, but when she did, what a scream she made! She was running and screaming and bleeding all over! Mr. Smith was so shocked, he had no idea what to do! Luckily, Evelyn Powers was there, and had enough sense to turn on the shower. Poor Kit-Kat Gwvehkhzenzohwski had gallons and gallons of water poured on her head, and third-degree burns. But in a few months she'll be out of rehab for her rhubard addiction, with plenty of bandages and a finer knowledge of safety in a lab. All's well that ends well, don't you say?