Classroom

"I think it was this door last time."

They found an open classroom with all lights on inside, which would have spooked them out had it not been for the custodian they'd befriended a few weeks earlier while outside the hall smoking a blunt. He'd mentioned the fact that since the dorm's rape scandal four years ago, all classrooms were to always be lights-on, even at 3 in the morning. Made it hard for him to roll his joints that he'd smoke while going from wing to wing.

"Now today, we're going to be discussing the finer physics of Super Smash falling physics. Greg, I want you to pay special attention to this one, seeing as I whooped your ass today."

Greg said something that Michael talked over and Jacob laughed over. Greg leaned back, smiling but hurt. He took a swig from his red cup.

"As we learned today, the angle of the dangle leads you to the right side. If you're leaning off over the right side of the ledge, what you'll want to do is do a quick drop hop and bop back into position," he said, drawing out a figure falling off of a horizontal axis, crude flames lying in wait in the depths below him. He then drew an arrow, and a cape, onto the character as it made it back onto the horizontal line. "That way you keep him guessing and regain your position on platform. Greg, this was Fox v Falcon where you kept eating the Falcon Knee because you weren't respecting the drop hop and bop," added Michael, drawing a glimmering knee on the stick man.  Jacob nodded and started taking notes on the desk with another marker he'd found.

Greg's relubricated mood was more open to the philosophy. "Now professor, how do you know if you should stomp-punish or if you should start charging your over-a?"

"You stomp them if you see the whites of their eyes," Jacob suggested.

"Close," Professor Michael nodded. "It's actually the brown pixels in their eyes. They all have them, color limitations at the time." He started drawing what looked like a stick man diagram with bulbous polka-dotted eyes, considered it, then scribbled it out.

"There real thing you've got to watch out for is the jump cancel neutral air, or JuCaNeA as we started calling this a few seconds ago." He drew what looked to be a nucleus of a cell with electrons spinning about.

The Franzia was starting to kick in. Greg went to find a bathroom. Jacob sat down his marker to steady his stomach. He looked very studious as he held on to his failing equilibrium. Michael was still penning away his lesson on the whiteboard. "And of course when you get to the top spot like me, there's really only one way to go," he said, turning to find a classroom of one pupil before him. "Pay attention now, this'll be on the quiz." He circled the fever dream of letters and drawings he'd arranged on the board and marked four next to them, "q u i z". He stepped back to review his work, then leaned in and wrote "Do not erase" to the upper right of his teachings. Jacob started to laugh, the shockwaves of which sent his own cup upturned onto the floor, mixing the lemonade-hued white wine onto the burgundy carpeted floor. 

"Ah fuck me. That janitor's going to be pissed."

"Nah, fuck that man, look you can't even see it. Blends right in," said Michael as the two wandered out to find Greg puking next to a trash can.