Forensics Solo Humorous Acting: Homework Eats Dog

Homework eats dog and other woeful males. Good morning. My name is Douglas Kovachineski. Since I am not functioning in my official capacity as a high school science teacher, however you may expunge my first name from your memory, I am Mr. Kovachineski. Today is Friday, October 13th. Friday the 13th. It's also the day a very difficult, very long-term, very potentially grave, devastating assignment is due for my class. On Friday the 13th. Yes, I planned it that way. It is now 7.28 a.m. and I am expecting the first knock on my office door within the next 124 seconds. You see, I come to expect a particular phenomenon to occur on this most weighty of mornings. I call it, affectionately, the hour of desperation. Students will come in with my rate excuses as to why they believe they should have an extension on this monolithically important assignment. I look forward to the inventiveness of this hour, the creativity of this hour, and most of all, the sheer student desperation for this hour. Please be advised that the students you are about to see will come at any manner of excuse, but I have never, ever, in 23 years, given a single extension, not one. Everyone has had to use an excuse to get out of doing homework. I've heard many over the years like, My printer was broken! I didn't have enough time to finish it! Wait, there was an assignment? Even I had to use a couple of these. However, these aren't as creative as the ones used in this piece. This is Homework Eats Dog and Other Woeful Tales by Alan Hangle. Ah, whoever might that be? Enter. Ah, good morning, Mr. Kobikineski. It is a good morning, isn't it? Right, so, um, I really need an extension on that assignment. You mean the long-term do-or-die assignment? Yeah, that one. You see, I didn't really understand it. Never understand... Jane, as far as excuses go, I didn't understand the assignment ranks pretty high in the survey I have taken over the years. I have never granted a single extension for that reason, not once. Well, you see, Mr. Kobikineski, this is different. My lack of understanding runs very deep, sir. I'm pretty much stupid. That's not an admission I hear every day. Continue. Everyone here will tell you that, right, Zack? Jane is pretty dumb, sir, and I say that as her boyfriend. Lily, the word moron doesn't even begin to capture it, sir. You see? So you're saying because you didn't comprehend the assignment, you should have an extension on it? Am I hearing that correctly, Jane? Yeah. Hmm, let me think. No. But, and just to make sure you understand my answer, I will give it to you in five different languages. English, no. German, nine. Russian, net. French, non. Sign language? So you're saying I can't have an extension? I think you understood me. Leave now. And so it begins. That, as far as excuses go, was about a 6.5. Bringing in several classmates was a variation, but one I should have expected given the current trend of doing everything together, such as going to the bathroom, to instant messaging, to bungee jumping only using strands of linguine. I saw that on Discovery Channel last night. Ah, more joy arrives. Enter. Mr. Kukineski, you have to give me an extension. I broke up with my girlfriend last night. Boo hoo. Next. Sir, my mother ran over my writing hand with her hover. Suck it up. Next. Mr. K, I need to talk to you about- You shorten my name, I shorten my answer. No. And for the next and final individual pleading fruitlessly for the leniency I have never once given and 23 only moments away from being 24 years, come on in. Good morning, Mr. Kukineski. Ah, Amanda, you look upset. I am very upset, sir. What seems to be the trouble? Well, you see, it's about the homework. And my dog. Your homework and your dog? Oh, please do not let my final gift be this. The worst of all excuses. Amanda, over the years, I've heard many excuses. A veritable cornucopia of cop-outs. So do not tell me you're going to insult my intelligence with the lowest of the low. Do not tell me that you're claiming that your dog hate your homework. Oh no, Mr. Kukineski, it's much worse than that. You see, I have a deep and abiding love for science, just like you. Buttering me up. Very old tactic, but occasionally effective. Proceed. I must confess to another great love for my dog, Copernicus. And because of my aforementioned profound love for science, I began an experiment in genetic engineering months ago. As my subjects, I used laboratory mice. I worked with 17 mice, all derived from essentially the same gene pool. I took note of any behavioral variations over a month. Copernicus, my dog, was also very fascinated by the mice. But not for scientific reasons, I'm afraid. Eventually, I had to banish him from my laboratory. My room. However, my experimentation got so engrossing, I thought about virtually nothing else. If only I had failed! I wouldn't have gotten so unbalanced, so blinded. I thought I might take a risk. Don't tell me you... Yes! I became reckless. I took all the food that I had been previously doling out in measured increments. And I threw it in the cage! Good heavens. I know! It was a moment of insanity. Not only that, I became so whimsical and foolish as to leave the door ajar! Copernicus got in. As to the precise consequences of my rash behavior, I could not say for certain. I could only deduce this story based on the carnage I found later. Within the brief time I had left the mice, they had morphed from insidious white animals to the mammalian equivalent of voracious piranha! Copernicus, in his canine enthusiasm, must have blasted the door behind him. Imagine, Mr. Kobikineski, his horror! The terror of being trapped in a room with these hungry, hulking, Schwarzenegger-like mice! After witnessing that awful scene of death, disappointment, and destruction, I couldn't stop crommeting. Crommeting? Crying and vomiting simultaneously! Not pleasant. So as you can see, I've come to you this morning with the hope that you, as a fellow avid scientist, will grant me that once-in-a-23-year extension to your no-excuses policy. I have to have an extension, Mr. Kobikineski, because in fact, my homework ate my dog! That's definitely the most interesting case I've seen in a long, long time. My answer has to be no! But, can't you see? Can't you see, out of all these days of the school year, this day gives me such joy! Another hour of desperation come and gone, and I, I, Douglas Kobikineski, have withstood them all and kept intact my record. I rule! Mr. Kobikineski, to show you how much I respect you and don't hold a grudge, I come to you with this donation for science. Really? How noble and thoughtful of you. Just set it down there. Interesting. The way the bones are gnawed. The way the skin is ripped. So disgusting. So beautiful. Attention students in Mr. Kobikineski's science class. Unfortunately, Mr. Kobikineski has fallen ill. All homework due today is granted an extension. Wait, I still don't understand. Really? Katie, we're getting back together! Insanity! So that's what crommeting feels like.