Class, You've Been Punk'd

I wasn't completely prepared for the chapter test in Psychology. So when I got the ten-question test, I knew I was going to fail. I just had no idea what was coming.

Yes, this is based on a true story. Yes, this really happened. About the only thing that’s different are the names, and the fact the one-shot is a reader-insert, therefore the reader will be experiencing my reactions to the whole situation. Everything else is completely true, or as near to the truth as I can remember, because I have a horrible memory XD Anyways, enjoy!

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Idea Created On: November 14, 2006
Idea Started On: November 17, 2006
Idea Finished On: February 13, 2007
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Class, You’ve Been Punk’d

My psych class was currently in the library because of the construction going on in the school. The tables were long, reminding me of the tables they use at banquet parties, the ones that have the buffet on them. Besides the fact that it was a fire hazard and we were two stories up, I rather liked the class. Normally, we had third lunch on "D" days on our rotating schedule, but on this particular "D" day, we had first lunch. Why? So our class wouldn't have any interruptions during the Chapter Test we had to take. How were we supposed to study for it? Read all of Chapter Four. Did I? Not really.

So after lunch, our class of about thirty kids (yes, it was a bit crowded, thus the fire hazard when one couldn't fit in-between the bookcases and the tables, or the computers and the tables to get to the tables) filed in, all nervous about the test. I sat in the front, the teacher immediately passing out the ten-question test, all the while telling the class to shut up. His exact words, not mine. When everyone stopped whining and complaining for a moment, he went over the questions, but before he even got halfway through, the class was complaining. Again.

"Are you kidding?!"

"Case, are you serious?!"

"I don't even KNOW half this stuff!"

 

"It was all in the chapter and your notes," Mr. Case said, receiving more complaints. He continued, talking over the class.

 

"We're gonna fail this."

 

"Can I just take the F now?"

 

"Mr. Case," me best friend Jamie started from beside me, "if the whole class failed, can we do a retake?" He nodded subtly, barely glancing at or paying attention to her. Jamie turned then, facing the whole class. "Guys, just fail so we can retake the test!"

 

"Guys, this is all stuff we went over," Mr. Case said with irritation in his voice, which surprised me, since he was always laid-back and acted like a senior himself. It was a well-known fact that he hated, sorry, greatly disliked freshmen and favored seniors, so for him to get snappy with us…it wasn't normal. "Just try your best. Any talking from here on out and you'll get a zero." The class groaned, but dutifully went to work as he sat at his desk. The boy next to me, Nick, put his head down, not even bothering to attempt the test. Jamie and I got to work, angry, frustrated sighs coming from my fellow classmates. I raised my hand to ask a question, Mr. Case's brown eyes landing on my as a sign to ask away.

 

"Can we just put the last name of the theorist?" He nodded in a dismissive manner, almost flippantly, as if I were a bother. I sighed, answering the questions I had only a slight clue about. Several kids came up to his desk to pose questions, but he shooed them away with no answers, shaking his head and thus causing some of them to stop mid-sentence and storm back to their spot at one of the five tables and leaving them pissed along with stressed. Because lunch was only fifteen minutes long, we had only forty-five minutes to take the test. When there was about ten minutes left of class, and most kids had given up and sat there or slept, Jamie included, Mr. Case asked a student to retrieve the library aide. The brown-haired girl did so, returning to the classroom-half of the library with the young, dirty-blonde aide, Ms. Kasey, sitting in her seat and going back to the test. Ms. Kasey walked to the front of the class, stopping at the space between my table and the one behind me. Mr. Case stood, going to the white board next to his desk as Ms. Kasey spoke.

 

"Kids, I have something to tell you." We all looked up and at each other before looking to her, her normally soft and kind tone of voice that of sternness and admonishment. She always had a smile on her face and was bubbly and happy, but at this moment, there was a frown marring her pretty features, her face stony. I hadn't been there for the past couple of days, so all I could think was 'What the hell did they do?' It seemed the same thought was running through the minds of my classmates by the clueless expressions on their faces. She hesitated for a moment, face stern, before she spoke.

 

"Class, you've been punk'd." A wide grin broke out on her face as we all stared at her dumbly, her words taking all but seven point eight seconds to register in our brains. And once the preppy, pretty-boy of the class, Steven, spoke, he set off a domino effect.

 

"Aw hell no!" he cried indignantly, others -including myself- joining him. "That's messed up!"

 

"You've gotta be kidding me; this test was a prank?!"

 

"Argh!" The snapping of a pencil was heard.

 

"Oh my God. That is so EVIL!"

 

"I can't believe this."

 

"I wanna drop the class."

 

"Me too!"

 

"Case, you're a b*****d," Steven said. Mr. Case and Ms. Kasey were grinning like idiots (which was kind of scary for Mr. Case, because he looked like he was a body-builder and is a very handsome man, and a grin on him just wasn't an every-day thing) and enjoying the class' reaction.

 

"Thanks for giving me an anxiety attack!" I snapped, throwing your pen on the table and grabbing my chest, my heart beating a mile a minute.

 

"Hey, at least I got a good nap," Nick said with a grin.

 

"You suck, you a*****e," Jamie snapped, glaring.

 

"Is the test really a fake?" someone in the back asked. Mr. Case nodded.

 

"Of course. None of the questions are valid; they make no sense whatsoever! There's only one or two that could even come close to being valid."

 

"I noticed that," I started. "Just by the grammar and the structure of the sentence." Okay, so I was an English freak. While the class continued to rant, Ms. Kasey slipped out, chuckling, while Mr. Case turned to the whiteboard, grabbing a black marker and starting to write something down.

 

"So you had this all planned out, didn't you?" Steven stated accusingly. The rest of the class looked at him like an idiot, while Mr. Case paused in writing, smirking at him.

 

"Of course."

 

"That's just wrong, Mr. Case," a black-haired girl, Samantha, said. "I wrote out these elaborate answers that I made up off the top of my head for nothing? Are you sure these questions really don't have any validity to them?" she asked.

 

"Yeah, they don't even make sense! And there's no such thing as," he paused, looking down at my paper to read a question, "communicative-whatever-I-put. Well, at least I know who the bull-shitters are," he said, causing us all to laugh. We all looked on the board, where Mr. Case had finished writing. There were three columns, and the title was 'Personality Adolescent.' The first column was Globalization, and under it was Blamed the world - me! Underneath that was Fail to take accountability.

 

Mr. Case turned to the class. "Who blamed anything but themselves?" Only Steven raised his hand, causing the class to laugh.

 

"Typical, Steven."

 

"What? It's his fault!"

 

Mr. Case shrugged. "Steven, why did you blame me?"

 

"Because you're the one that punk'd us."

"It wouldn't have anything to do with you not studying, would it?"

 

"Uh…no?" Steven shook his head as everyone laughed. "You're the one who made the test that didn't make any sense, so even if I didn't study -which I did-"

 

"Right."

 

"Keep telling yourself that, Steven."

 

"-it wouldn't matter!" he finished over the snickers and comments from his classmates.

 

"For people who blame anyone for anything that goes wrong in their life, it is called Globalization. They are the type that is more concerned about their lives than others. Everything revolves around "me" and only "me." I'm not at fault for anything." The next column read Internalization. Underneath it was Blamed selves (medical problems), and then under that, a list, starting with Long term; Stress; Find guilt in selves; and Lower self-esteem.

 

"Who blamed themselves?" Jamie, myself, and the majority of the class raised our hands. "Okay, who blamed themselves because they didn't study?" Everyone's hand stayed up. "Who degraded themselves?" Jamie, myself, and about half of the majority put our hands down, leaving only a few hands up.

 

"For those of you who degraded themselves, you need to see a psychiatrist." Everyone laughed. "Seriously, though. If you were that hard on yourselves, then it's a sure sign of low self-esteem. Internalization is the complete opposite of Globalization. Everything's always your fault, even if it really isn't." The last column was Rationalization, and it only had one phrase underneath it: I failed, but....

 

"Who said to themselves 'I failed, but tomorrow's another day, and I'll just do better next time?" Most of the people who raised their hands for blaming themselves also raised their hand this time around, murmurs of "Yeah I did a little of both" going up around the classroom. "Rationalization would be considered the "normal" reaction. It is more optimistic than the other two."

 

"Poor Steven," Samantha said teasingly. "You're the odd one out."

 

"Huh?"

 

"She's saying your conceited, man," the boy in front of Steven said.

 

"Oh. Of course I am with this hotness. I'm Brad Pitt Jr."

 

"I suddenly lost my interest in Brad Pitt now," I stated with annoyance.

 

"Hey!"

 

"Kid, you're cute, but don't EVER compare yourself to Brad Pitt. Ever. Never ever," I finished. Steven pouted while the rest of the class laughed.

 

"Hey, guys, if you see the kids from period five, don't tell them. They're taking the test tomorrow," Mr. Case announced to the class. Steven perked up, forgetting my comment at Mr. Case's own.

 

"Awww hell yeah! I'm gonna get them all psyched out about it."

 

"Yeahhhh, let's get them all nervous and crap!" Jamie added.

 

 

"That actually sounds like fun," I said, grinning. "Haha, I have class with someone in period five. This is gonna be awesome!" The kids chattered about how they were going to psyche out the other psychology class until the bell rang, signaling the end of class. Mr. Case was grinning the whole time, laughing at the statements his students were making. I was certain about one thing, though:

 

This is one class that I'll never forget as long as I live.