Coffee Maker

Sean Wilson sat in the third desk of the third row in class 333 in the new wing of the school...the C wing, and "C" just happens to be the third letter of the English alphabet. The teacher was deeply involved in a lecture on thermodynamics and was quickly putting the class to sleep. Sean however, sat with his eyelids glued open, staring at the floor. Streams of equations and diagrams spattered the chalkboard in the front as professor Haley gestured wildly, attempting to regain the interest of the class. He was unaware of the event that was occurring on his carpet. As Sean glared down, a large stain in the carpet began to shimmer like an oil slick. Without warning a massive, four-fingered hand burst from the stain, dripping an inky black goo. It slammed back to the floor, gripped the carpet, and dragged itself toward the back of the room past Sean's desk. *sluuurp PLOK!...smiiissh PLOK!* Professor Haley continued to ramble on about technical this' and that's while the bizarre appendage plopped and thunked down the row. Corey Schmitt was nodding off in the back of the room when the hand ruptured from the floor, grabbed a leg of his desk with force enough to crimp the metal, and yanked it into the floor along with Corey who was still falling asleep. Almost instantly, Corey had vanished leaving a set of peculiar black skid marks on the speckled cream carpet. The hand had pulled his desk into the stain on the floor. "Crazy," breathed Sean. He fixated on the floor while the professor continued lecturing in total oblivion to the sudden absence of the back row desk. A bubble rose from the stain and popped, exuding the stench of cheap coffee grounds. The surface fluxuated and the hand reemerged. It wavered in the air for a moment and began to drag itself toward professor Haley at the front of the class. The sight that followed was spectacular to say the least. The professor had turned his back to the class and was blasting an equation onto the board with an unusual quantity of variables and the hand had positioned itself directly behind him. With a stealthy *sluuurp*, the hand stretched up to the ceiling and slammed its full weight down on top of professor Haley, pounding him into the floor before he had even pulled his fingers from the board. A long, straight chalk line marked the descent while tendrils of pungent sludge arced through the air. Sean pondered the spectacle in silent awe, waiting, motionless in his desk to see what would happen next. The rest of the class was asleep by now or so engaged in their personal lives that they didn't notice the teacher had disappeared. The hand shot back out of the floor and rotated left and right, scanning the remainder of the class like a periscope. It stopped on Sean and waved. Sean waved back and things continued on a more friendly level for about a minute when Sean realized that the hand was actually waiting for something. A drop of black goo fell with a *plip* on Sean's desk. Another hand dangled from the ceiling, swaying from side to side like a robotic claw on an instant prize arcade game. Another drop fell and hit Sean's face, reeking of burnt coffee. Its fingers flexed hungrily, squishing like wet sneakers. With fluid dexterity, it lunged for Sean's head. Halfway down, an explosive burst of white powder rammed the hand and dissolved it into brown syrup. "Take that, demon spawn of Insta-Bunn!" yelled Mr. Collins, running in from his calculus class next door. "Burn! Burn in Hell!" He tossed a bag of non-dairy creamer to Sean who had just been drenched with the hand's glop and continued hurling handfuls at the stain in the front of the room. The unsuspecting mound of coffee sludge reared evasively but was pummeled back into the carpet by a crazed Mr. Collins. Handfuls of creamer slammed the carpet and turned the bubbling coffee beast into a harmless brown slime. With a victorious cry, Mr. Collins declared, "This is the last time that idiot Haley makes the coffee." When all was done, Mr. Collins brushed the powder off his khakis and returned to his own class bemoaning his ruined coffee maker and repeating, "Stupid Haley, stupid, stupid." Sean slid out of his desk, wiped the residue from his seat and deposited last night's soggy homework in the trash can. Willy Deniston turned to Sean from his seat and said in a bored voice,"Hey man, are ya understandin' any a' this junk?" "Nah," said Sean, in the same monotone, "you?"