An Incredibly Stupid Tale That is a Source of Perpetual Shame to Me

My teacher in fourth grade was this ex-cop named Mr. McNair. He was a pretty cool teacher, actually, he had this whole zoo’s worth of animals in the classroom. We had an aquarium full of fish, a big giant cage with a couple of parakeets, a pair of rats in a cage, and some frogs in a terrarium.

Of course one by one tragedy befell just about every last one of these animals. The parakeets? One chewed through a power cord that ran next to the cage and electrocuted himself. Smelled like Thanksgiving turkey when we came into class the next day. The other one escaped and battered his brains out on the window trying to escape.

The frogs? I think they just never got fed and died of starvation. He never removed them from the terrarium either, so we got to watch them decompose.

The fish? They all died. I’m not sure what happened there, maybe he mixed aggressive species with passive species or something, I dunno.

The rats? Don’t get me started about the rats. They escaped into the walls, and the female only came back to have some babies, which she promptly abandoned. Then she returned and ate some of them.

Yes, my fourth grade classroom was a veritable house of horrors, complete with the teacher passing around little baby rat cadavers so we can all see what a dead baby rat looked like (In retrospect, it’s a wonder the guy managed to hang onto his job…). Needless to say it was the perfect learning environment for me.

Yes, I loved that class. Yeah, he wasn’t that great of a teacher, but he was at least pretty fun. There was only one thing that I really didn’t like about the class…

Fractions.

I don’t know why, but it just seems to me that every kid hates to learn fractions. In retrospect, it seems like a pretty silly thing to hate, but I guess at that age you figure that just plain ‘ol addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division is all you’ll ever need to know in life, when all of a sudden they say “Hey! You get to learn about fractions too!” It’s not like fractions are even that hard, kids just oppose them out of principle or something.

You know who else hates fractions?

Lemurs.

I know this, because one day we were going over a fraction problem in class, when all of a sudden the windows in the classroom exploded into a thousand glittering shards of flying death. The children all screamed and ducked under their desks like we learned we were supposed to in case of earthquake, hurricane, nuclear war, or dinosaur rampage.

Or in this case… DEADLY NINJA LEMURS!

Yeah, I know what you’re thinking… Ninja lemurs? It’s a widely known fact that lemurs only practice aikido in the wild, the idea that they would somehow learn the deadly art of ninjitsu is just laughable.

Yet here they were, bushy tails twitching this way and that, their bright, gleaming eyes filled with deadly cold malice, katanas brandished above their heads, issuing a silent challenge to anyone in the room to test their mighty ninja might.

Richard Gromis was the first to die.

He was the closest to the doorway, I guess he figured he could escape from the clutches of the lemurs and alert the authorities to our plight, but he figured wrong. Dead wrong.

With a flash of fur and steel, the lemurs stuck him with so many shurikens that he looked like a pin cushion before he had even taken his third step towards the door. He stumbled, fell face down into a growing pool of his own blood and moved no more.

As bad as that was, the worst was yet to come, for the smell of human blood in the air seemed to drive the lemurs into some sort of simian bloodletting frenzy. There were screams and severed limbs and the flash of Japanese steel, and the room just came to be drenched in the dark crimson of the life blood of fourth grade students.

I myself managed to escape. I’m not really sure how it happened, it’s all such a blur, but I think I may have thrown Brett Cosner at them to butcher as I made my get away. It’s OK though, he always was a bit of an ass.

Anyway, I got outside the classroom hoping to make my way to safety, only to find that the whole school was under siege by rampaging lemurs. There was no haven to be had anywhere; the hallways ran red with rivers of blood, as screaming kids ran this way and that amongst the mutilated corpses.

The horror… the horror…

But just as I was backed into a corner by a trio of bloodthirsty lemurs, the man you’d expect to show up if you have a problem with unruly lemurs finally made his debut.

That’s right, TARZAN!

With his trademark Tarzan yell, he swooped down on a vine and kicked the advancing lemurs right square in the chest. He then went on to prove that he is in fact the undisputed master of the jungle and all its creatures by proceeding to beat the crap out of the ninja lemurs in a blazing fast blur of loincloth.

Within the hour, the tide of lemurs had been turned back by Tarzan’s heroics, and the surviving kids gathered ’round for the obligatory photo-op just as the media arrived. While Tarzan was receiving his accolades, guess who finally arrived on the scene?

That’s right, BATMAN! In his Ninja Lemur Fighting suit! He looked most perplexed to see that the problem had already been taken care of, and sidled up next to Tarzan.

“Dude…” he said in hushed tones, “What are you doing?”

“Me Tarzan fight great battle with ninja lemur army!”

“Yeah, that much I know. What I mean is… what are you doing here?”

“Me Tarzan fight evil wherever it is found.”

“Not according to the terms of your contract you don’t.”

“Me Tarzan not understand…”

“You’re the designated super hero of the jungle, I’m supposed to take the city. You can’t just waltz into my territory without proper authorization. Do you have proper authorization?”

“Me… Tarzan… Left it in my other loin cloth.”

“Sure you did. Why don’t you catch the next vine back to Africa and let me handle this.”

“Oh no you don’t! You no steal me Tarzan’s kudos!”

“I’m not stealing them, they weren’t supposed to be yours in the FIRST place. Now get, before I kick your ass back to Madagascar.”

“Make your mind up! Is me supposed to go to Africa or Madagascar!”

“Oh shut up.”

“No.”

“I’m warning you…”

“No!”

“Look, either you get your dreadlock-wearing ass out of here, or I’m going to grind you into the pavement.”

“Tarzan like to see you try…”

“…”

Now there’s no fightin’ as grand as hero fightin’. Unless one of those heroes is Batman, because as we all know Batman cannot be beat by anyone or anything, least of all some guy who’s only real ability is that he was raised in the jungle.

So while Tarzan’s going all monkey style around Batman, he just stands there appraisingly and waits for Tarzan to make his move. Finally Tarzan decided to throw a punch, and that’s when Batman went to town, ripping his arm out of its socket and beating him about the head with it before tearing out his heart and shoving it down his throat.

So yeah, Tarzan got owned, and Batman got to take credit for repelling the Lemur Invasion.

Of course with Tarzan out of the picture, the balance of power in the jungle has since shifted. I think the Republic of Ninja Lemurs is trying to develop some sort of ninja nuclear weapon at this point…

 

LEGENDS OF BATMAN!