School Rules

:: Chapter Two - The Uniform ::

"I'm here as requested, Headmaster."

"Yes, please, come in, Miss Brown. Tea?"

"No. Thank you."

"I see that your manners are improving. Your teachers hao fao far been most complimentary about your behavior today."

"Do you have the uniform for me, sir?"

"Ah, yes, right here. In this bag."

"Should I change now?"

"Please."

"Er - shall I change in the bathroom, then? Since you're obviously not leaving..."

"You may change here."

"In front of you?"

"But of course."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. You will put on that uniform now, Miss Brown."

"That's so... so..."

"In the contract, I am to specify your uniform."

"But I don't think that means that you get to watch me change."

"I don't think you have any choice about it, Miss Brown. I have Mr Grant's phone number right here..."

"You think I'll let myself be humiliated simply for a spot on the debate team?"

"No, of course not. It's the presidency of the debate team that's at stake here."

"This isn't fair!"

"No, it isn't. Change. Now."

"Please, I really don't want to change in front of you."

"Oh? Why not?"

"It's... it's humiliating. It's dirty."

"Dirty? Are you ashamed of your body?"

"No,courcourse not. But... it makes me uncomfortable."

"My apologies."

"So...aren't you going to give me some privacy?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No. Change."

"This is humiliating."

"Take off your shirt. It's disgusting - plain cotton, baggy..."

"I like it. It's comfortable."

"Take it off. Ah, yes, that's better."

"You're a dirty old man."

"That's disrespectful, Miss Brown. Remember rule number two: I will be respectful of my teachers - which includes following their instructions."

"I don't care."

"You will. Believe me, you will. There's a shirt in the bag. Please, put it on."

"This thing?"

"Yes."

"Um... it's missing a few buttons..."

"Yes."

"It's disgusting."

"You can't waloundound the school without a shirt, Miss Brown, and you will not put on this common piece of cotton. Put on the shirt."

"It shows my cleavage. Is that part of the standard uniform?"

"For you, yes. Ah, that's lovely. Simply lovely."

"It's humiliating. Everyone's going to notice!"

"Some of the other girls also wear shirts cut like that."

"Yes, but they're bimbos."

"And you're not a bimbo?"

"Of course not!"

"No, I suppose not. Take those pants off, put the skirt on."

"I hate plaid."

"It's the uniform."

"Are you sure it ought to be this... small?"

"Change. Pants off, now. Oh, very nice legs. Your athletics scores have been excellent, if I recall."

"Will you please refrain from making comments... sir?"

"Oh, no. Please, put the skirt on. Oh, that's much better. You look very nice, now."

"What, in a shirt that shows half my breasts and a skirt that barely covers my butt? Sir."

"And the shoes, too."

"These things? How am I supposed to walk in them? How high are those heels, anyway, sir?"

"Three inches, I believe. Put them on. Oh, very nice. Very, very nice. I like it. I like it a lot."

"I don't. Sir."

"Your skirt is crooked, Miss Brown. Shall I straighten it for you?"

"I think I can do it myself... sir."

"No, let me help you."

"Take your hands off my buttocks!"

"You're not speaking politely to me, Miss Brown."

"You're molesting me!"

"I am implementing the school board's proposed discipline."

"Get away from me! You can't possibly expect the school board to condone-"

"You signed the contract."

"What, to let you molest me? Get - off - me!"

"To let me, and the rest of the teachers, discipline you."

"Stop that! And discipline means-"

"Whatever I wish."

"No, stop it, I mean it! I really don't like that! Thank you, finally!"

"Whether or not you like it is immaterial."

"I don't want the debate team presidency that much. Goodbye. See you later. Ciao."

"I'm afraid whether or not you want the debate team presidency is also immaterial."

"What? But you said-"

"There's nothing in the contract about letting you have the presidency if you obey the rules. That was merely a verbal contract, and therefore is superseded by the written one."

"But-"

"The contract you signed gives us - me - the right to discipline you as needed."

"What?!"

"And you've been most disrespectful while I've been trying to dress you properly."

"What? Let me out - I don't care about this school - I don't want - Let me out! why is the door locked?"

"To keep you from leaving before I'm done disciplining you."

"And discipline includes feeling me up? I can't believe this! Let me out!"

"Discipline, Miss Brown, is as I choose it."

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