• Published 7th Nov 2011
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School Daze - Paleo Prints



Can Cheerilee make a group of inner city colts and fillies stand and deliver?

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Chapter 4: Under Pressure

School Daze
by Paleo Prints
Chapter 4: Under Pressure

Notice: I make no legal claims on any of these Hasbro characters. This is not done for profit; fanart would be nice, though.

We were young; We were free…
The new schoolmare of Ponyville smiled professionally as she stood on the steps of the Ponyville schoolhouse. Inside Miss Scribbles’ head she was screaming.

Please let something end this tirade; a manticore, a volcano, or asteroids are all welcome.

“I can’t understand how her parents could let her roam in public! She’s a little monster. Did you know she was also fighting in the market yesterday?”

Scribbles nodded politely as Cloud Kicker’s mother complained at a breakneck pace. She realized it was about time for her to speak again.

“I’m sorry your daughter had to be involved in this,” she commiserated. “You know I don’t encourage this among the kids. Believe me; I’ll talk to the filly’s parents.”

That is if they’re even in town right now. Scribbles checked her mental calendar. They spend half of their time in Canterlot; is this the week?

It took more them a few repetitions of promises, but thanks to Scribbles' promises Wind Sheer left in a more relaxed huff.
I’m glad that’s over. The rookie schoolmare was exhausted, dropping down on her haunches. It had been a long day. Even when a class worked with her, the organized chaos of art activities kept her on her hooves. After a few merciful seconds of inactivity, she stood up to look for Lyra.


The sun was close to setting, but Cheerilee was in no hurry to go home. She was almost out of the oldest schoolhouse class; she was basically an adult in her own mind. Her parents lived down the block, and they were used to her helping out at school. She reminded herself to get her Colty Hart record back from Miss Scribbles now that the blackboard was clean and the books were organized. It’s not a bad deal. I get my music back, her class is cleaned, and my parents never know I’m bringing records to school. Cool day for everypony.

Or not, she thought. A mint-green filly was sitting on the school steps. Cheerilee had no idea how her classmate could do that; her back looked cracked out of all shape. She’s going to be some gnarly circus performer when she grows up I bet.
Cheerilee hadn’t spent much time with the new unicorn student. Lyra’s parents had just moved into Ponyville from out of town. She knew the Ponyville parents talked about them a lot, but Cheerilee never quite managed to hear the juicy grown-up rumors.

“Hey, Lyra! What’re you doing at school so late?”

The unicorn made slow and steady eye contact. She had a simmering anger just hiding behind her gaze. She looks like she’d buck the Mare in the Moon in the teeth just for staring.

“I’m waiting for my parents to come pick me up.” Her voice was flat and unemotional.

“Well, I guess I am too. You look like you could use the company.”

Lyra merely gestured with one hoof to the nearby step. Cheerilee tried to sit the way her classmate sat, to humorous and painful results. She slipped off the step sideways into a pile of frizzy hair and checkerboard scarves. Lyra chuckled while Cheerilee sputtered through her braces.

Okay, let’s play that off. I meant to do that.

“Oh, sitting that way is so uncomfortable. I might as well reposition myself. How’s it going?”

The unicorn shrugged. She stared straight ahead.

Not very communicative today, is she? “Lyra, I want to know what you’re thinking. There’s some things you can’t hide. Did something happen with Cloud Kicker? Tell me what’s on your mind.”

Lyra’s eyes glazed over a second. Cheerilee shivered at the intensity. “She doesn’t like me. Neither do her friends. I’m not ‘her kind of pony,’ so they let me know it whenever they can.”

The fuchsia-coated teen scratched her chin. “Is it the whole noble thing? I know your family may have issues in Canterlot, but that’s a bogus reason to dump on a pony.”

Lyra smiled. “It’s not that.” She sighed. “It’s…”

“Hold it! Don’t care.”

Lyra’s mouth hung open. “What?”

Cheerilee beamed. “I don’t give a horse apple. You’re fun, that last play showed you have a great ear for music, and you always share your lunch with Sparkler ‘cause her Mom can’t afford much. Whatever they think is lame, and I don’t need to know. ”

Lyra smiled wider than Cheerilee had ever seen. Miss Scribbles, watching the pair while hiding behind a tree, felt her eyes tearing up.

“So, when are your parents getting here, Lyra?”

The young mint mare slumped forward. “Tomorrow I think. Until then, I’ll stay here. Cloud Kicker is probably waiting for me with friends on the way home.”

Cheerilee frowned. “You could come dancing with me tonight. My friends and I are meeting up later.”

Lyra shook her head. “Is Cloud Kicker in that group?”

The earth pony filly’s gears finally clicked in her head. Lyra started to look dejected again.

Cheerilee made a quick decision and struck a dramatic pose. “Nopony says at school overnight while I’m here! I know a totally excellent path through Woodywind Meadows. There are some radical carnivorous plants there to see, and you should get home before night.”

Lyra stood up. “But your friends are waiting for you.”

Cheerilee cut her off with a flourishing hoof wave. “All my friends go dancing with me or none at all! You should be able to dance if you want to. If you want to dance and my ‘friends’ won’t dance then they’re no friends of mine. Let’s take you home.”

Lyra embraced the earth pony unexpectedly. Cheerilee could feel her shaking. She held Lyra at hooves reach and looked into her eyes. “Lyra, I have no idea why they pick on you, but we go off to secondary school at the end of the year. Cloud Kicker goes back to Cloudsdale. This situation doesn’t last; whatever it is, it gets better.”

Miss Scribbles smiled as the two young mares started heading to Lyra’s house. I’ll have to remember to also give her the Colts Without Hats album back tomorrow; she deserves it.

The teenage fillies were now just barely visible over a hill. Cheerilee had used some of the chalk dust from cleaning as face paint to draw lines on both of their cheeks. She still could hear them sing as they skipped to the meadow.

“I’m the dandy highwaymare that you’re afraid to mention!”

Scribbles smiled. That’s one lucky unicorn. I don’t think Cheerilee could stand to see people wallow in unhappiness. If any pony needs a little inspiration, she’s got it. She nodded with sudden insight. You know, maybe I’ll suggest she tries out as a teacher for career day. It just might stick. Any needy student that showed up in her class would have found the right place.


Miss Cheerilee the schoolteacher stared at the light lavender teenage filly. She was seated and smiling, but the teacher was still ill at ease. The schoolmare couldn’t stop staring at the spiraling shapes the young filly had as pupils. This is weird. On a scale of one to ten, this is weirdness turned up to eleven.

Oh, well. I’ve had strange students before. “Hello miss! I’m your new literature teacher. I think you’re a little early.”

“Me find friends here! Me are not supposed to. You pretty red lady not from the stone people field!” The young girl looked at Cheerilee with a mix of awe and gratitude. “Me owe nothing to you.”

Okay, I can handle this. Cheerilee put on her ‘I’m not fazed’ smile. The mailmare’s daughter had a speech problem. She paused in thought. We don’t have a student exceptionalities specialist in this school, do we?

“So, I’m not asking you to leave, but why are you in my class?” Cheerilee frowned. “If you’re skipping class, I’ll have to talk to your parents.

Screwball became quieter. “Me have lots of parents. Me have all the parents.”

Cheerilee brow furrowed. “Look, why are you here?”

Screwball smiled, shook her head to make silly lip noises, then cartwheeled over to the teacher’s desk. She scrunched her face in concentration. Cheerilee became worried; the young mare was visibly sweating after a few seconds, and looked exhausted. She grabbed a stack of ancient papers left ungraded by the former teacher, and threw them into the air. Quickly using scotch tape to affix scissors to her right hoof, she raised both forelimbs and started wildly crane-kicking the cloud of papers.

What the HAY is going on? Is this the sign of serious mental issues or an interpretive dance?

Cheerilee readied herself. She assumed this was the time to break out the ‘well done!’ speech. Whether one of Silver Spoon’s posh macaroni monstrosities or a reading of Snips' ‘Commander Star Stallion’ stories, Cheerilee was well-practiced at finding something good to say about the bizarre patchwork of children. She was about to start when the first paper figure landed.

WOW. Socks. Blown. OFF.

It was Discord; Screwball had kicked into existence a perfect origami Discord. The figure stood on its own and was nine inches tall. He perfectly landed on his paper feet.

Oh boy. How does this relate to me? It can’t possibly…

The schoolmare stopped thinking. Screwball had set up an elaborate display of Cheerilee and her class.

How can I be involved in this? Cheerilee had lost any interest in talking. She stared in rapt attention.

Screwball carefully tiphoofed over to the desk. She looked at Cheerilee for approval. The schoolmare nodded. Screwball began moving the figures with her hooves. The paper teacher was shaken at the paper children, as if she was talking. The Cutie Mark Crusader puppets began turning on each other.

Okay, I know this part.

The strange pony moved all the paper ponies away from the discord statue cut-out. She then flicked the image of the Draconequus. It unfurled, going from the static statue image Cheerilee remembered to a figure of a triumphant Discord with fists in the air.

How does she know this?

Screwball began carefully unfolding the Discord paper. It became a triumphantly larger gesturing Discord, and a paper doll of Screwball fell out. Screwball inched away from the desk. She gave a nervous Cheerilee a worried look and backed up to another desk.

“See. Screwball perfectly normal.” Screwball’s smile was heartbreakingly fragile.


Cheerilee slammed the administration office door open. Principal Placeholder almost dropped his levitating coffee mug over a desk full of reports. “Miss Cheerilee, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He stared at the teen that was nervously hiding from him behind the schoolmare.

“I need to register a student.”

Placeholder’s eyebrows raised leisurely. “Normally admissions are handled during morning office hours. Realistically, since we’re closing down, I don’t see…”

Two hooves deliberately clopped onto his desk. An angry fuchsia face with fiery eyes leaned in close to the surprised principal. “I need an admission form. You’re going to give it to me.”

Placeholder gave a tiger’s smile. He levitated a form out in front of Cheerilee. “Certainly,” he said while wiping his brow. “Just check his or her address. Do they live in Old Canterlot?”

Cheerilee put the form on a desk, looking for a pen to chomp down on. “She does now.”

Placeholder set his mouth into a grim smile. “Her address checks out, I assume? This wonderful child who brings chaos to my office lives in Old Canterlot?”

Cheerilee thought quickly. “Yeah, she’s staying at the…living room?”

Placeholder looked incredulous. The schoolmare sighed. In for a bit, in for a bag. “She’s in my living room. Screwball is my niece.” Her eyes guiltily looked from side to side.

Placeholder snorted. “The poor foal is named Screwball?”

Okay, I’m warming up to this. This is fun. “She’s a natural baseball pitcher. Her parents sent her here to try to get into the Canterlot Cavaliers Junior Training Camp.” Bring it on. I can run with this. I’m better than Applejack; let’s see where this goes. “She’s got a baseball mitt she wants autographed from her late uncle who was killed in a foulball accident.”

The unicorn was relieved, showing no signs of having heard about the family tragedy. “That actually makes sense. Family business explains why you’d disturb my office space in a completely disrespectful manner. I honestly wouldn’t accept any other reason for your insolence.” He beamed at her. Cheerilee smiled nervously.

“So, you’re Cheerilee’s family apparently, little one?”

The young teen flicked her purple and white tail back and forth with excitement. This was backwards; she understood it perfectly. She knew she had to play along.

“Cheerilee is me family! Me…”she stopped. mE TrY a liTTle HaRdEr. Her brow scrunched up; a drop of blood came unnoticed out of her nose. “We have many relatives; we’ve seventeen aunts and thirteen uncles in all, not to mention my fifth cousin sixty-seven times removed! There’s so many people related to me. I’m with her family!” She was breathing heavily at the end, like an athlete after the Running of the Leaves.

Placeholder chuckled. “Careful with this little one, miss; she’s a spitfire. Get her papers filled out and let her rest; she’s got the shakes and a nosebleed. I’d hate for her to be sick. After all, you’ve both got your first day of class tomorrow.”

Cheerilee’s mouth moved quickly as she deftly completed the paperwork. Letting the pencil drop, she smiled. “No problem, boss.” She gave a quick hoofed salute. She pulled Screwball out into the hallway. Once she was out of sight of the Principal she gave a huge breath of relief.

Well, that worked so far. I hope I don’t regret this.

Screwball smiled at her. “Now me walk away?”

Cheerilee gave a weak smile. “Let’s grab something from the lunchroom and head to my room. I’ve got to setup, and you’re going to help. After all, as my lodger you have to pay me back somehow.” She put up a front of confidence as she walked back to her room.

Screwball pushed her front hooves together nervously as she sat on her haunch. “Don’t worry, Cheerilee,” she said at almost a whisper. “Me sure nothing will get screwed up.” The nervous filly walked after her ‘aunt.’


Now that the schoolmare could concentrate on her class, she started sweating. The place was a mess. Barely written-on assignments overflowed off of crowded cabinets. Her bulletin board was filled with pencil jammed in with force. The blackboard was crammed with scribbles, obscene writings, and the large message ‘Hope you get deported, Mister McGregor!’ The windows were sealed with planks nailed up helter-skelter around the room, looking like a final defense erected against the zombie pony apocalypse.

Well, it’s definitely a fixer-upper. I have a lot of profanity-filled boards that will clean off quite nicely. The furniture’s varied enough for a few class configurations; I can work with this. Cheerilee started to move the desks around when the lack of light started to bother her.

“Screwball, help me get the nailed-up boards from off the windows.” Outside-looking windows increase student performance according to Equestrian Educator Magazine.

Cheerilee screeched from an explosion behind her. Turning around she was greeted by a smiling Screwball standing on a four-foot tall pile of wooden boards cut into identical shapes. Sawdust settled in the air around her. A single board leaned against the wall, dozens of nails imbedded in the pattern of Cheerilee dancing with a butterfly.

Red Glare stuck his head inside the door. “Everypony okay in here? I’m only asking because it sounds like my class instead of yours.” He smiled hopefully.

Cheerilee turned her back on him to work on the desks. “You’ve never seen my class, Mr. Glare.”

He nervously giggled. “Well, time to immerse myself, then. When can I chip in? What needs moving?”

The schoolmare turned to give Glare one of his namesakes. “I don’t need anything broken, exploded, or slimed. Your help, while appreciated, is not needed.”

He scratched a hoof behind his neck. “Right, right. Well, I could get you a drink from the break room, then? Bring you a cup, get you ice?”

His eyes looked around and settled on Cheerilee. She shook her head. That’ll go right to my rump.

“Me totally don’t need a soda right now! Not cherry at all!” Screwball was jumping up and down on the planks.

Glare gave a hoofs-up and he trotted away. “Right away, strange little lady.”

Cheerilee snorted as she shook her head. That guy… Screwball jumped up. “Him am unkind and hostile and skinflint!”

Cheerilee nodded as she hung up the blackboard paper. “I’m with you on the first two at least, but I haven’t…” Her eyes widened. Turning around, she said “Screwball, you meant all those things?” The filly nodded. “Screwball, you don’t have a headache right now, do you?”

The teen filly nodded. “Of course!”

The bright red stallion walked back into the room with his head respectfully bowed like a royal courtier. He placed it in front of Screwball and bowed. “Your drink, Madam, presented…”

The effect was spoiled as he knocked a stack of textbooks off the desk and sent the bottle flying. Cheerilee failed to stifle a giggle as Red hit his head on the desk looking for the bottle. He gave the bottle to the amused filly with as much gravitas as he could muster. “Your, um, your now very fizzy bottle, my lady…” His eyebrows rose questioningly.

“Screwball!” The filly clapped with delight as Red began straightening his mess.

“Well, little Screwy, in deference to your…” Red cocked his head at Cheerilee with concealed trepidation.

She raised one eyebrow. “Aunt.”

He spread a grin of relief. “Well then, in deference to your auntie I take my leave. Adieu, dear lady.” He bumped into a desk as he backed out, but mostly concealed the pain.

Cheerilee looked sideways at Screwball. “Unkind?”

Screwball nodding while drinking the soda, “Me Screwy!”


Cheerilee swung open her new apartment door with as much force as she could. Oh boy. She collapsed onto the couch. Not nearly enough done, but we’ll get there early tomorrow. She gently moaned as she rubbed her back on the couch. At least Her Majesty got me good furnishings.

Screwball tugged the cart into the room with effort. “Let’s do that again.” She lay down on the floor next to the couch.

Cheerilee rolled onto her side. “No, Screwball. There’s a thing ‘round here. Bed-thing. You lie on it.” Her eyes shut as she passed out. Soon the only sound in the room was a snore-filled duet.

Two yellow eyes glowed in from the window. “Ah, isn’t that adorable?” A low deep chuckling rang out. “She’s even drooling!”

The sound of landlady Miss Bungalow’s walker started to advance toward Cheerilee’s house. “Miss Cheerilee? I heard that!” The aged mare hobbled down the stairs to the schoolmare’s apartment at the end of the alley. She turned the corner of the alley and presented herself at its entrance. “No menfolk on the premises after sunset!” She stared down the corridor.

Nope, s’all there. Left-side, garbage cans. Right-side doors. Backside thirty-hoof tall wall. She sniffed. Where could that voice have gone to in such a hurry?

As she walked nervously back to her apartment, she swore she heard the chuckling again. Miss Bungalow whispered a few prayers in the moon’s direction as she shut her front door.


A high-pitched screaming sent Cheerilee off the couch onto the prostrate form of Screwball. The groggy filly shook her head free of sleep funk.

“Ugh. Sorry, Screwy.” Great, now he’s got me doing it. Wait, what time did I set the alarm? Clop, did I set the alarm?

Cheerilee walked over to the cuckoo clock. She looked hard at the cuckoo. “You woke me up at half past six?”

The cuckoo nodded with pride. He quickly grabbed part of her first-day packet from her cart and presented it to her. Class starts at eight. “So we have almost two hours?”

The cuckoo nodded once, and then struck a diligent salute. He was immediately sent flying backwards by the force of Cheerilee’s screaming.

“That’s ridiculous! Have you never known a teacher? That’s way too little time. I’ll never get my classroom ready!” Her eyes were wide, and she was scratching her hoof against her forehead in nervousness. “Screwy, grab a lunch and we go now!”
The dejected cuckoo hung his head as he walked back to the clock. He saw the two mares dash out the door as he made some adjustments to his abacus.


The rush to the school was mercifully fast; very little traffic greets a schoolteacher early in the morning. Cheerilee hit her first obstruction once she made it inside the academy’s gates. They’re packed in shoulder to shoulder here! The previously-empty courtyard was jammed with students. All around her vision she saw fillies giggling as colts smiled at them. Friends were chasing each other in some strange game that involved tapping the back of someone’s neck with a hoof. She swore that she could smell haysmoke from somewhere.

“Excuse me.” She stumbled between the student body while carefully dragging her cart. “Sorry about the interruption.” She nervously cast a glance at her ‘niece;’ Screwy was taking in the entire scene with mouth agape. She seemed spellbound.
Finally reaching the top stairs she passed a few colts throwing dice around dense books to reach a blockade. The two teens from the day before were laying across the stairs while their friends gathered around.
“Billy’s getting a little grabby, so I clop him right in the face, see…?”

Let’s try this again. “Excuse me, Miss. Bomber, right? I need to get through, please.”

The peach-coated teen turned with a grimace. “Hoy, what’re you going to threaten with us now? Yer whip, nice and oiled?” She drew appreciative laughs from the crowd.

Cheerilee’s shoulders drooped. “I need to get to a teacher’s conference. Would you mind if…” She gestured with her hooves. Bomber waved her forward while Luster gave an anticipatory giggle. Halfway up the stairs something hit her back wagon wheel hard and fast. The sudden shock upturned the whole thing; a multitude of school supplies clattered down the stairs. Cheerilee heard at least one loud shattering noise.

“Oops. Maybe ye should use the back ramp next time, Miss. There’s here path is dangerous.”

Cheerilee stood in shock. Screwball threw a kick that righted the cart and began to refill the cart. “Thank you, Screwy. Let’s get this stuff back in.” Screwball saluted and threw in a cracked mug, an apple core, and several rocks.

The duo made it through the front door to the exaggerated salutes of the students, only to find yet another barrier. Placeholder blocked the path. “Good morning! We’re going to begin the meeting shortly. I’m sorry, but the young miss will have to wait outside.”

Cheerilee stared nervously at the tangled throng outside. “Screwball, take care of yourself. Make some new friends, okay?” Celestia, I wish I had thought to talk to her about this. With a week of preparation she might be ready for the outside world. Cheerilee muttered a few beseeching words to the rising sun as she followed the Principal, leaving a pair of spiraling eyes regarding the other fillies.

Screwy watched the adults leave as she slowly walked down the front stairs. The group of youngsters regarded her with open eyes. A bulky gray colt with a tangled black mane looked at her quizzically. “Hey Luster, what kind of cutie mark is that?” Sluice Hardpick frowned in contemplation.

Screwball walked to the group. She had decided that these would be her first friends. “Good-byes, everypony! Me am not going here!”

She was met with stares and silence. Bomber regarded her with confusion, and Luster started giggling nervously. Screwball started rolling her eyes and playing with her lips.

“Hey, lookit! She’s a derphead! We got a mental at the school now!” A large blue colt with a hammer on his flank started to roll of the floor, laughing and pointing. “Lookit her!” Luster started to move away from him uncomfortably.

He stopped when Bomber bucked him in the face. He screamed as the impact carried him down the stairs. She threw her still-burning haystick on him. “Cut it out, Sledge.” Bomber turned to Screwy. Her eyes softened. “Walk on down, girly. He won’t bother you now, nonehow.”

Screwball looked at him carefully. She nodded respectfully to Bomber. She proceeded to leap into the air. After completing two backflips she landed on the grunting Sledge and walked off. The Stairway Gang chuckled at the moans of pain.
Hardpick grinned. “A harsh but not undeserved lesson, that one.”

Bomber nodded. “I ‘appen to agree there, Sluice. That little filly may be able to handle ‘erself; let's see if she makes any mates.”


Cheerilee slumped over the table at the teacher’s room. She turned to the pale mare on her right. “Morning, Goldy. How much time do we get between the bell ringing and the first block class?”

Goldy smiled nervously. “We get time?”

On the other side of the room, Red Glare picked a coffee cup off of the ‘Rocks: 2-for-1’ table. “Hey Globe, you seen the new literature teacher?”

The cynical traveler smiled as he finished pouring his coffee. “Don’t get your hopes up, Reddy. She’s from Ponyville. You know what they say about girls from Ponyville, right?” He took a long swig and raised his eyebrows pointedly at the table where Golden Ratio and Cheerilee were chatting.

Red clicked his tongue nervously. “Of course. Yeah. I do. They’ve got hair like an alicorn and a stare like a cockatrice, right?”

Globe patted him on the shoulder while heading to the table. “My friend, you certainly like explosives. Just don’t let it blow up in your face.”

Red just stared. “Ponyville girls like chemistry?”

A gigantic stack of paperwork floated through the door, followed by Placeholder. “Good morning, everypony. I hope you’ve signed in already. Remember, if you don’t I can’t give you credit for inservice hours.”

Cheerilee blinked. “Sir, there’s only four ponies on staff. Do we really need a sign-in sheet?”

Placeholder stared at her without comprehension. “Well, we have a full docket. Let’s go over our shut-down procedures updates, run through the new testing mandates, and discuss hall security.”

Trotter leaned in to whisper at Cheerilee. “That guy wouldn’t save his grandmother from a dragon unless it was filled out in triplicate.”

Red looked up from the paper he was furiously doodling on. “Sir, could we be brief today? I kind of have a bacterial cultures lab I have to set up.”

Placeholder grinned. “That gives up the perfect excuse to add the new district biohazard rules to our agenda! Don’t worry, Mr. Glare. I’m sure you’ll have five minutes at least.”

Cheerilee stared into her coffee. This is going to be a disaster. She looked at the clock. The depressed blue cuckoo merely shrugged.


Over an hour had passed. Cheerilee nervously clicked her hooves on the table. She had long since lost interest in what Placeholder was droning on about. Her colleagues seemed equally attentive; Red was sketching large and elaborate doodles, whereas Goldy stared politely at the principal with eyes glazed over. Globe Trotter had been staring at his coffee for minutes on end. His level of attention suggested the letters in the cream spelled out the missing clue to solving a murder.

Her plaintive eyes once again met the cuckoo. He checked the clock, nodded, and got into position.

“Well, that seems to conclude all of the business today. Remember that now that we’ve discussed the district’s recommendations we’ll need to have a meeting to vote on them and an additional meeting to discuss the results of said vote.” He smiled in surprise as he checked his agenda. “Oh, I have a final word; good luck, Miss Cheerilee. Welcome to the staff.”
She blinked. Goldy patted her on the shoulder, and Globe raised his coffee. Red said nothing; he was so attentive to his art that only the cuckoo’s ring brought him out of his reverie. “Oh, good luck, Cheerilee! Is the meeting over?”

The teachers filled out of the staff room as a maintenance pony opened the front door. Cheerilee tugged her cart with effort as she raced to her classroom. She opened her door and quickly dumped her belongings on the floor behind the desk. They’ll never see them with the desk in the way. She raced among the seats, knocking anything that didn’t belong in the hooves of a student into her cart. She carefully aimed the wheeled box full of staples, scissors, and scraps; she then kicked it behind the classroom door. She opened the door and stood in the hallway just as the first student approached her room. She gave him a huge grin as she extended her hoof. “Hello! I’m your new literature teacher! Welcome to class.”

Time to rock and roll! Wait 'till they get a load of me!

Next Chapter: Chaos, Struggles, Montages, The Manticore’s Paw, and Trains!