The teacher came in the room. He was new.

The teacher came in the room. He was new. The seventh graders sat quietly. He wrote his name on the board. He said, proudly, "My name is Mr. Sandercock."

Giggles. Johnny blurted "Ha Ha, you said cock." Mr. Sandercock was used to it, and prepared. He walked over to Johnny's desk, grabbed him by the shirt, and whipped out

a wiffle bat. Johnny's eyes were wide and staring and his chin was beginning to quiver. But before Mr. Sandercock could strike

the schools disciplinary umpire yelled. "ball!" Mr. Sandercock was "walked" & sent to the teacher's lounge renamed "The dugout". Since CA schools adopted "three strikes your out",

& the Queen's English was used in Canada instead of regular English, the "3 Strikes You're Out" teaching method was misinterpreted & enforced like baseball. Kids would get a strike

for writing labour without a 'u'. After about three mistakes, they'd get kicked to the curb, sent to America. Now, this may seem like an unusual punishment but in Canada,

anything goes, as long as thick slice bacon & maple syrup is involved. In this particular case, maple syrup served as the lubricant, while the bacon represented the doctor's bill.

The fried egg was my desire to be well. The toast was a tasty reminder of our mortality, the HP Sauce a bittersweet momento of regrets. The black pudding showed the existential

but all this food was just food even though I could see meaning in every little thing that was presented to me. No one else could see it but my desire to love life granted me this

temporary delusion, a tasty respite from reality, and I ate all of the provided snacks as if I hadn't eaten since the dawn of Carl's Jr. -- Anon. Folder, Boulder, CO, Jan 1, 2014.