Yet another crazy idea makes it to paper… Well, metaphorical paper.

This was started in somewhat the same fashion as "Swamp Tour Around the Pond". Old idea, new look at it. Back in my good old middle school days, my best friends and I would write a lot of stories about our teachers… And a lot of bad rap songs…Anyway, there was one in particular that I wrote for my history teacher about what would happen if James Otis (think American Revolution) was to sub for him. Reading that made me question what would happen if RE characters were to become substitute teachers…

And special thanks to Raven Thornheart – her review on 'Swamp Tour Around the Pond' is what initially got me inspired to write this story.

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The Substitutes

By Burning Bridges

"I'm the sub of a sub who was

subbing for some one else."

a sub I had in 9th grade

It was a beautiful day on the mountain; the skies were blue, the foliage was green, and the sun was shining blindingly over the quaint structure of DDMS, a normal American middle school… parked in the middle of nowhere…

It had been warm and sunny for the past few weeks, which completely explained why half the staff had suddenly gone on vacation and left the Administrators to find a bunch of replacements, fast. And that meant only one thing…

Hire the cheapest, least qualified group of people and just throw them into classes… Hey, it works.

First Science Room in the F-Wing

Wesker sat at the head of a seventh grade science class, his feet propped up on the teacher's desk as he leaned back in the chair and watched the students sitting there staring at him – or more likely, at his sunglasses. A ghost of a smile graced his serious features, probably unnoticed by the uneasy students. He was in control, and man, did he love that feeling!

When a student slowly raised his hand, Wesker chose to ignore him for a while, until the kid decided to use his other hand to hold up his now tired arm.

"What is it?" he asked tetchily, and the kid responded in an apathetic tone.

"Are we going to do anything today?"

"Yeah, I have something for you to do. Shut the fuck up."

He enjoyed the peace for a few more minutes before it started to get on his nerves.

"Anything you can do, I can do better. I can do anything better than you…" he sang to himself quietly.

Another student raised their hand.

"Now what?" he barked.

"Jon is staring at me, and it's getting annoying."

"I'm not staring at you, asshole."

"Yeah, you are, fuck face!"

"Get bent!"

"Well, this is interesting," Wesker said happily, watching the fistfight that ensued with utter amusement.

Meanwhile, In the Art Class Down the Hall and Around the Corner…

The kids sat in horror, staring at their sub like he'd just crawled off of a table in a shutdown laboratory.

Nemesis growled at the computer, hitting buttons on the keyboard in a vain attempt to take attendance. When the computer suddenly marked all the students absent, he roared, hoisting the monitor up and hurling it through the door and into the wall. He then ran out after chucking the tower, stomping on and punching the pile of broken technology.

When he came back in, the students looked more terrified than they originally were. He walked up to the chalkboard, picking up a piece of chalk and breaking it by accident. He picked up a smaller piece with an annoyed growl, and very slowly wrote his name on the board.

"Um… What does it say?" one kid asked.

"It looks like 'Hamish'." Nemesis shook his head.

"No it doesn't, it looks like 'Veemers'. Or 'Nimus'." Nemesis shook his head harder, trying to write his name more neatly.

"Nexosil?"

Nemesis roared, tearing the teacher's desk apart looking for a dictionary. When he didn't find one, he ran back out into the hall, this time heading for another room.

In the Gym

"I am Carlos, and he is Leon. And we're going to be your substitute gym teachers today." The students stared at them blankly. "You know… Saturday Night Live… 'I am Hans and he is Franz'… Guess not…"

"Wait… Carlos… Leon… Wasn't he that guy Madonna screwed?" one of the kids asked, and the two just gave each other weird looks.

"You don't think that this is some kind of conspiracy, do you?" Leon asked, and Carlos just laughed.

"You're kidding me."

"No. I'm serious." Leon looked around the gym at the cameras on the ceiling.

"Well… Maybe that's possible, but not probable. It is really weird."

"Come on; let's take the kids and try to find out why it happened, Carlos."

"Leon, I seriously doubt there's any conspiracy."

"But you can't be sure!"

"… Fine. Let's go."

A Room Down the Stairs in the G-Wing

Jill read through the teacher's instructions really quick, and thought to herself that this would be seriously easy. They were studying "Shane", and although she had never read it, she had printed a summary up from the Internet and perused through it a couple times. While the students were taking a pop quiz on the ranchers vs. the homesteaders, she went through the teacher's supply closet, finding a fuzzy, warm shawl (which was great because the room was freezing cold and she was wearing her blue tube top) and a pomegranate.

She strolled out into the hall, eating the pomegranate, and observing the English class across the hall. The man who taught it, a somewhat fat guy who told jokes all the time, but didn't seem to enthusiastic about his students, had just set the kids to work on defining words with little calculator-like electronic dictionaries. Not to her surprise, though, they kids weren't actually working. Some of them were laughing about typing profane words, while yet another group was making fun of a kid whose name came up as meaning 'antichrist'…

The teacher came out into the hall, smiling at her. "Spring has sprung, the grass has ris', I wonder where the birdies is," he said and she just grinned politely, secretly wishing she could roll her eyes and punch him.

"First day as a substitute?" he asked, and she nodded, swallowing a mouthful of pomegranate.

"Yeah, it is."

"How do you like it so far? Kids can be really tough sometimes, you know."

"I like it," she said, "It's a nice alternative to my old job."

"What was your old job?"

"Special Tactics And Rescue Service officer," she said, watching in near-shock as Nemesis came running down the stairs towards them.

"Sounds like it was pretty interesting to me. My old job was being a teacher in Colorado. There was only one time I remember they closed school for snow, and that was when it snowed seven feet…"

"S.T.A.R.S.!" Nemesis exclaimed, coming up to her and pointing towards her classroom.

"Um… You want to go in?"

He nodded furiously.

"Okay… What, do you need something? Just be quiet, my kids are testing."

He roared his gratitude, and went stomping in, half-tearing the room apart looking for something.

"What was that?" the man asked, momentarily taking his eyes off of her to watch a book fly through the air into the back wall of the classroom.

"One of Umbrella's experiments. He's actually quite nice when you get to know him."

"Right…"

Nemesis came out of the room, held up the dictionary happily and ran back down the hall and up the stairs.

"So, if you're not doing anything Friday night, would you like to get some coffee together?" he asked.

Next Door to Jill's Room

Nicholai sat in the back of the room, watching the students go up one by one and present their history reports, followed by an explanation of what they thought went well in their presentations and what didn't. He wasn't finding this to be particularly interesting, and as much as he'd like ('like' being a relative term) to pay attention he was getting rather bored… And longing to play a game of Russian roulette.

The present student was up there reading her evaluation of her project. All of the other students had liked her speech, but she apparently begged to differ.

"I had difficulties with just about everything. I didn't get my speech done on time so I had to write a fast one during class. I had some problems explaining what gender discrimination was. I mean, besides the fact it was hard to describe. I think my report stunk, rotted, bombed, crashed and burned, et cetera. Anyway, I can't say much else. It was horrible. I don't care what the others say. I could have taken more than ten minutes to write a speech and do a good one. I mean, I didn't give all the information I could have. I summarized what I could remember, besides the fact that I really don't find Sally Ride to be a good subject or interesting. Of course, she can't help the fact that I find space exploration boring to the point where you want to scream. I think I could improve on the whole thing even though I'd probably die of boredom trying to do it again. It is hard to put into words what I would or could try to say. I mean really, it was like a boring subject. Let me just say everyone was bored out of their skulls. I could have more fun cleaning a toilet with my tongue."

"That can be arranged," he said, "You're being too critical. Go sort out your self-esteem issues elsewhere."

"What do we do now? Everybody's done," a kid asked as she sat back down, and Nicholai just shrugged.

"I don't know. Let me think a while."

"Where are you from? Austria?" someone asked, and he glared at them.

"No," he said slowly. "I'm Russian."

"Are you sure? You're not from Georgia and you just think you're Russian?"

"No!"

"Are you a Soviet?"

"Why should I tell you?"

"Why are you answering a question with a question?"

"Fuck off, you little bastard!" he shouted, just about ready to throw the kid out the window.

In a Room Near the Lobby

Chris stood in the front of the room, cluelessly staring at the quadratic equation he'd just written on the board. "Um…"

"Are you sure you should be subbing for an advanced math class?" one student asked, and Chris laughed nervously.

"Yeah, of course. Now, uh… Subtract this from that, maybe?… And divide this number by that little number on top?"

"I don't think he knows what he's doing…" someone whispered, and Chris took on a defensive tone.

"I do too!"

"When was the last time you did math?" another kid asked.

"Um…" Chris said slowly, "… I don't know… I do math all the time!"

"Then what's the square root of 144?"

"Well…"

"9x5?"

"Yeah… Uh…"

In a Highly Secluded Room Just Past the First of the Bathrooms

Barry didn't understand how someone could ever teach this class… It was one thing talking about sex amongst yourselves, but completely another to be chatting with kids about it. And one day he'd have to talk to his own daughters about it…

He shuddered at the thought, and cleared his throat in an attempt to get the attention of the uninterested students.

"Um… I'm supposed to show you a movie… Do you think you can take it seriously?"

No one said anything.

"Hello, anyone paying attention?"

Once again, no reply. Some of them appeared to be paying attention, despite their silence, while others were involved in writing things or defacing property… And one appeared to be getting high off of whiteout. He sighed, going over to the TV and putting the video in the VCR.

"This movie's about STDs – Sexually Transmitted Diseases. I'd advise you to pay close attention if you'd like to avoid getting any when you… Well… You know…"

He hit play and then walked over to the lights, turning them off, and wandering back to the desk at the head of the room. The students seemed to take more notice once he had stopped talking, and were now at least looking in the direction of the TV. A creepy voice came on as the video commenced.

"Hello, this is Vincent Price. Today I'm here to talk to you about STDs, and how much they can ruin your life, as well as your sexual experiences. MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Barry raised an eyebrow at that statement, deciding he didn't exactly want to stick around for this. He got up and went out into the hall, closing the door behind him. They wouldn't get up to anything… He hoped…

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I've been working on WAY too many RE music videos… They've warped my already twisted mind…There will be more – I wanted to write about more people and more classes, but this installment was getting a little long. So I'm splitting it up, which is good for you 'cause that means more to laugh about.

All of the classes are based on classes I did have… Except the STD movie I had to watch was a lot less interesting… Poor Barry…

The woman Jill is subbing for was a teacher of mine in 8th grade, as was the man hitting on her, the year before. That guy was weird… He didn't seem to like us, but he was always telling us jokes… And as far as I know, he still lives alone with his dog in my community. Wesker on the other hand, is subbing for my 7th grade science teacher – an ex-drill sergeant who really liked skulls.

I would've done a bit more with Wesker… I'm just having a bit of trouble getting into his head right now – so if you have any suggestions for him, please suggest away!

Now if you will, please take a moment to leave me a review and let me know how I'm doing so far – and anything Wesker might get a kick out of doing in this realm of insanity.