Don't Eat the Sushi- Ch. 3

Chapter III- The Final Installment

The day came, the stage was set and everyone was ready. And so it began. The Bull was sitting at her desk grading some papers. Ariel knocked on the door around 12:00pm with a package of sushi from Whole Foods (pre-dosed with Mercury thanks to Tony’s friend in the Pharmaceutical department). “Hey Mrs. Carlislie, I brought you some sushi.” The Bull looked up with that fake smile plastered on her face and said “Thank you, dear.” She called all her TAs dear because she never cared to remember their names, another reason to bring her down.

“I was also wondering if you might look over-“

“No time, dear,” the Bull replied tartly, waving her hands and looking down at her papers. “No time. Later.” Ariel silently slunk out of the room, turning her back on the Bull and smirking. With that the plan had been set into motion.

Twenty minutes later Scott called Brad from outside the cultural arts building to say “The Fish Market Friday night?” This signaled that the Bull had eaten the Sushi.

“You got it.” At that moment Scott left his apartment, walked to 5 minutes to the Bull’s office and knocked on her door.

“Yes?”

“Professor,” Scott said walking in “I have a few questions about the assignment for this week’s discussion.”

Before she could answer, telling him to leave her office as she had Ariel, Kathy stormed into the room in a flurry saying “Professor there’s a problem. One of my students keeps saying these obscene things and I’m not sure if she’s attracted to me or she has some condition like Turrets or something.”

As the Bull opened her mouth to speak Tracy and Selma stormed in arguing “You take him!”

“You can’t just shuffle a student around between us TAs because he asks, Tracy.”

“Can too!”

“Can not!”

They both turned to the profession inquisitorially and said “Can you, Professor?” The excitement mixed with the amount of mercury she had been dosed with caused the Bull to start to teeter in her chair. She stood up, put out her hand and then crashed down on top of her desk pushing the papers all over the floor sliding to the ground in a heap.

“Oh my god! Mrs. Carlislie?!” Kathy shouted. It was rehearsed of course but very convincing Selma admitted to herself.

“Don’t worry, I know CPR,” Selma said holding her hand in front of Kathy. “Somebody call 9-1-1.” As Scott jumped to the phone and dialed Selma turned the Bull over and checked for breathing. As she began pumping away on the Bull’s chest Scott told the 9-1-1 operator “Yes, we have an emergency. Our professor is unconscious and seems not to be breathing. We are…”

While Scott continued giving the necessary information Tracy’s eyes glazed over and her happy Bull free world lay out before her. Fifteen minutes later the paramedics lifted Mrs. Carlislie onto a bed, strapped her in and wheeled her away, breathing.

“You saved her life,” the paramedics said to Selma and in turn to Scott. The four of them who had been in the office stood there with phony expressions of shock and horror on their faces as other people came out of offices and around hallways to see what all the commotion was. One by one each of the TAs left, going down different hallways and out various doors.

Leaving the Bull’s office for the last time Tracy held back the grin and mirth she was exploding with inside. Walking outside into the bright rays of sunshine she texted everyone “Friday night dinner is a go,” closed her phone and sauntered across the quad.