He was sitting at his desk, the little twitch in his eyebrow back. No-one was talking to him and he certainly wasn’t going to speak to them first. They could hardly understand a word he said. He couldn’t understand why, he spoke the Queen’s English and nothing but. They were probably just stupid.
Today it was the drumming outside that was making his eyebrow play up. It was beginning to give his face a sinister twisted look and he was about to ask Siri what the word for “Shut up” was in Japanese when it stopped.
“Oh thank god,” he muttered. It hadn’t taken him long to begin muttering to himself. He hadn’t noticed mind, he still thought he was being his usual subtle self. However one of the other teachers had noticed.
It was half an hour until lunch time and he wasn’t looking forward to it. Last time there’d been something slimy which had gotten stuck in his teeth and every time he’d breathed it had slapped the roof of his mouth. The muttering had been particularly audible at that moment. Brian had thought the food ridiculously impractical and clearly no-one could eat such things.
Just as he made to mark another of the hundred letters he’d been written by students (“They are just gibberish. They make no sense at all!” Brian had muttered to himself several times in his somewhat nasal voice,) a pair of teachers he didn’t recognise came over smiling.
He never liked it when they smiled. It made his stomach churn with unease. It usually meant they would offer him something horrible or take him somewhere nasty. He liked it as his desk, where he could pretend he was back home. He glanced at the framed photo of the Queen on his desk. It always made his chest slacken and his nerves calm, just looking at it.
These two teachers had given him a tour of the school at the start of the year and they’d even given Brian a little sweet each as a welcome gift. He scowled at them, whoever they were.
“What?” he uttered, “What is it?” he added, remembering his manners and ever so slightly softening his tone.
He hoped they weren’t going to offer another cup of green tea. The teachers always seemed to offer it. He’d accepted the first one, because it was important to try new things and be polite. He was quite adventurous and always polite after all. It had been so bitter though. With some effort, he’d managed to swallow it, but his cheeks had turned a little red. Subtlety being his strength, he’d told them it wasn’t his cup of tea. He couldn’t understand why anyone would like it. It was horrible.
The two teachers gestured for him to stand up and follow them. He hated it when they gestured. He had ears and wasn’t an animal.
Soon he was halfway down an unfamiliar corridor and there were loud noises coming from up ahead. He could feel his bladder clenching. The two teachers were nodding, smiling and whispering instructions into his ears, but he wasn’t listening. There was no point. He was certain that their English was too poor to understand.
The noises up ahead became clearer. Clapping and cheering. A crowd. Brian began to sweat. They’d reached a curtained door and the teachers were standing on either side, gesturing for him to enter.
“Oh god.” He hissed, but his words were lost in the folds of fabric as the teachers pushed him through.