What Goes Around...

The only appropriate ways to convey the raw emotion of this exercise in karma are either through interpretive dance or a third person retelling. As a consequence of limited time (and a strained hamstring from a previous attempt at choreography), I will opt for the third person retelling.

Modern Day Taiwan

Having woken up on the ecstatic side of the bed, a humming and skipping Lipsty mounted her scooter and made her way swiftly to the high school she calls home. As a new member of the team, she couldn't wait to see how her new students did on their mid-term exams. She quickly gulped down her oats and seeds (all the while still singing, clapping and cartwheeling through the office) so she could resume the wonderful joy of grading papers.

She maintained her chirpy mood throughout the morning while seeing her students kicking academic goal after academic goal until SUDDENLY BAM!!$%#!!!! She turned over a test paper and was smashed in the eyes by A MASSIVE LIFE-SIZE, 3D MALE ORGAN! Complete with veins. It was so life-like in fact that she threw it on ice and started running for the hospital.

Of all the nerve? Which student would have done such a thing? How did they get to be so good at drawing THAT...??? Despite having previously thought she was rather unembarrassable (real word check?) - Lipsty found herself sitting at her desk with a red face. Then like a bolt of lightning the karmically-linked incident slapped her in the face.

CUT TO COLONIAL AUSTRALIA (well around 1992 or 1993 anyway)

A young Lipsty enters the playground of her conservative Catholic primary school (let's call it St. Dude's for purposes of anonymity). She is armed with nothing but schoolgirl innocence and a posse of dirty, scratched up, wise-beyond-their-years school boys. The posse's eyes (every single last one of them) scan the playground until they fall on their unsuspecting victim, Mrs. Sausage*.

Gathering around Lipsty like a hungry pack of seagulls, the five 8 year old boys put forth their challenge. Lipsty was to approach Mrs. Sausage, her favourite teacher, and tell her this great joke. Rising to the challenge, Lipsty fearlessly strutted across the playground towards her target.

The exchange went a little something like this:

Lipsty: Hi Mrs. Sausage. Would you like to hear a joke?
Mrs. Sausage: I'd love to Lipsty.
Lipsty: Ok! I'll say a sentence and you repeat it but add the word 'debating' to the end.
Mrs. Sausage: Sounds wonderful.

Mrs. Sausage plainly had no idea what she was getting herself involved in. Nor did Lipsty!

Lipsty: I like science.
Mrs. Sausage: I like science debating.
Lipsty: I like english.
Mrs. Sausage: I like english debating.
Lipsty: I like history.
Mrs. Sausage: I like history debating.

And so it carried on until they came to a critical point. Not understanding the punchline and therefore its detrimental effect on Mrs. Sausage's opinion of her, Lipsty bulldozed through to the finishing line.

Lipsty: I like maths!
Mrs. Sausage: I like maths debating!

As Mrs. Sausage's face quickly flushed crimson, Lipsty looked to the skies to see who had dropped the bucket of red paint on her favourite teacher's head. Shaking off the confusion, she bid Mrs. Sausage farewell and continued on with her lunch break.

CUT TO 17 YEARS DOWN THE TRACK

Karma has settled the score Mrs. Sausage. Here's to many more incidents of student-induced embarrassment. I get the joke now and I'm very sorry. A red face for a red face!


*Mrs. Sausage's name has been changed to protect her identity.