<Scene: A classroom. Enter two parents and a child. They walk to a table where a teacher is seated and seat themselves.>
Father: So you're the teacher of this blister.
Teacher (taken aback but still optimistic): Yes, Mr. Bottom, it's very nice to meet you.
Father: Alright, alright, that's enough of the bukwas. Show me his report card.
Teacher: Just a moment, Mr. Bottom. I would like to talk about Bottom's performance in school this term. He's done extremely well in athletics.
Father: Waste of time. How much did he get in Maths?
Teacher: He had the lead role in the school play.
Father (sternly): Damned waste of time. How will any of this help him get into college?
Teacher: Well, perhaps his ideas on the career he wishes to pursue are different from yours, Mr. Bottom. Bottom, what would you like to become?
Bottom (whispering): An actor.
Father: Please excuse my son's English, ma'am. (Thundering at Bottom) Son, it's pronounced doctor.
Teacher: I understand that you have your own ideas of what you would like your son to become, Mr. Bottom. But you must realize that it is his life and he has the right to make his own choices.
Father: Of course I understand that. I told him he can become anything he likes, doctor or engineer. Now just give me his report card ma'am, we can't waste all day here. He has coaching classes to get to.
Teacher: All right. I must say, Mr. Bottom, you have a very intelligent son. He's secured 98 in Mathematics, 97 in Physics, 90 in Chemistry and 95 in Computer Science. In English he's scored 80 percent.
Father: What?!
Teacher: I understand your amazement, Mr. Bottom. I was shocked myself at how well he's done.
Father: Eighty percent in English?
Mother: Hai Ram! (begins to weep copiously into a handkerchief).
Father: SON. IS THIS TRUE?
Teacher: Please, Mr. Bottom, calm yourself. He's got the second place in his class.
Father: Oho? Then he's studying in a class full of idiots! (begins pulling off belt) Come here, son.
Teacher: Mr. Bottom! Control yourself! Your son had contracted a severe fever on the day of the English exam and managed to answer his paper in between severe bouts of nausea while running a temperature of eighty degrees.
Father: Ma'am, my son could have been dead on the day of the exam and I still wouldn't excuse these marks. You come along with me, son. Thank you for your time, ma'am.
Teacher: Mr. Bottom, your attitude is entirely wrong.
Father: I'm afraid my son won't be attending class this Monday, ma'am, or any other day. Good morning.
Well, that was fun to write. What does a Hindu priest say when he reaches the temple? Ohm, sweet Ohm (Ba dum tss!) Happy Sunday!
Father: So you're the teacher of this blister.
Teacher (taken aback but still optimistic): Yes, Mr. Bottom, it's very nice to meet you.
Father: Alright, alright, that's enough of the bukwas. Show me his report card.
Teacher: Just a moment, Mr. Bottom. I would like to talk about Bottom's performance in school this term. He's done extremely well in athletics.
Father: Waste of time. How much did he get in Maths?
Teacher: He had the lead role in the school play.
Father (sternly): Damned waste of time. How will any of this help him get into college?
Teacher: Well, perhaps his ideas on the career he wishes to pursue are different from yours, Mr. Bottom. Bottom, what would you like to become?
Bottom (whispering): An actor.
Father: Please excuse my son's English, ma'am. (Thundering at Bottom) Son, it's pronounced doctor.
Teacher: I understand that you have your own ideas of what you would like your son to become, Mr. Bottom. But you must realize that it is his life and he has the right to make his own choices.
Father: Of course I understand that. I told him he can become anything he likes, doctor or engineer. Now just give me his report card ma'am, we can't waste all day here. He has coaching classes to get to.
Teacher: All right. I must say, Mr. Bottom, you have a very intelligent son. He's secured 98 in Mathematics, 97 in Physics, 90 in Chemistry and 95 in Computer Science. In English he's scored 80 percent.
Father: What?!
Teacher: I understand your amazement, Mr. Bottom. I was shocked myself at how well he's done.
Father: Eighty percent in English?
Mother: Hai Ram! (begins to weep copiously into a handkerchief).
Father: SON. IS THIS TRUE?
Teacher: Please, Mr. Bottom, calm yourself. He's got the second place in his class.
Father: Oho? Then he's studying in a class full of idiots! (begins pulling off belt) Come here, son.
Teacher: Mr. Bottom! Control yourself! Your son had contracted a severe fever on the day of the English exam and managed to answer his paper in between severe bouts of nausea while running a temperature of eighty degrees.
Father: Ma'am, my son could have been dead on the day of the exam and I still wouldn't excuse these marks. You come along with me, son. Thank you for your time, ma'am.
Teacher: Mr. Bottom, your attitude is entirely wrong.
Father: I'm afraid my son won't be attending class this Monday, ma'am, or any other day. Good morning.
Well, that was fun to write. What does a Hindu priest say when he reaches the temple? Ohm, sweet Ohm (Ba dum tss!) Happy Sunday!
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