Freaks and Geeks - Season Too!!!! (SATIRE!)

S02E03 - America, What a Town (Part 6)

"Den in 1970 dere were strikes and riots by de whorking clhass..." Madia informed from the front of the class, her accent somewhat mauling words, but her ability to speak fluent English outshined many American-born morons in the room. She didn't know why she was asked to give a history lesson of Poland to the class. After all, she wasn't the teacher.

"And again... last year, I believe," the teacher cut in, rolling up the cuffs of his blue, button-up shirt while his beady eyes focused on the exchange student under his glasses. His elbow pits, a.k.a. the antecubital fossa areas, always began to sweat when he anticipated the exhilaration of ridiculing a student.

"That is correct, Mr. Ramsey."

"Aha!" Mr. Ramsey spat out with a huge grin on his face, the cuffs up to his elbows on both arms. "I knew it! I'm right and you're wrong! Nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah!"

Madia, as well as the rest of the class, looked confused. "We werean't disagreeing on anyding, dough," the exchange student said, sounding somewhat unsure of herself.

The teacher stuck his tongue out at the girl and blew a long, sloppy raspberry at her. "Says you, commie. Now, go sit down." He shooed her away to an empty desk. "I wanna talk about how great America is and how our system is waaaaaaaay better than anything your puny country could ever imagine. Why, Ms. Warsaw or whatever your name is, did you know that in this country the ability to change laws is in the hands of the people? If two-thirds of their representatives in congress agree, then the law is changed. Did you know that? Hmm? Hmmm? Did ya?" He grinned pompously and wobbled his head a little. "Didn't think so... idiot." He finished rolling his cuffs all the way up and into his underarm pits.

"You tell her, Mr. Ramsey," Sam said silently, slightly getting off on the scene playing out in front of him while half-reading a story from McKinley High's very own newspaper, The Noreseman's Tidbits. It was an endearing tale about Todd Schellinger buying ankle socks for all the low income families in the community, but then keeping them all because he liked how they felt on his feet instead. "You show that bad, big-tittied foreigner who's boss. Get 'er ready for Daddy Sam to teach her all kinds of lessons at home tonig-" Suddenly Sam felt something warm and wet slip around the inside of his ear.

"Wet willy of love!" Sandy said, smiling lovingly at her Sam.

"Gross!" he bemoaned, cringing and shaking his head.

Sandy merely giggled at his antics.

"Actually, Mr. Ramsey," Madia began to counter the teacher from her desk, wearing a smirk of her own, "only a simple majority is required to pass a bill into law. A two-thirds vote is needed to override a presidential veto. Didn't you ever see that 'I'm Just a Bill' segment on Schoolhouse Rock, you jingoist?"

Mr. Ramsey's face soured and his lower lip quivered as he realized he was in the wrong. His biceps began to tingle and go numb while the arms below the elbow felt wickedly cold. His fingers were turning a dark shade of purple as his upper extremities fought to regain circulation around the over-rolled, tight cuffs. "You're... absolutely right," he admitted. "And I don't even know what a jingoist is." His elbow pits suddenly felt as dry as the Sahara desert.

As Madia began singing the Schoolhouse Rock song, most of the class joined in, twisting the words into a cruel mockery at Mr. Ramsey's expense.

"I don't wanna be a teacher anymore!" he yelled, bursting into tears and flying out the classroom door, never to be seen or heard from again. Except he will be.

The whole class cheered Madia and, just like that, she had made a room full of friends.

"That was neat the way you handled Mr. Ramsey," a random girl said as everyone left to loiter in the halls or drink Drano or whatever it was kids did after school. She was young and pretty, but also looked a little too old to be in high school. She was also black, which fascinated Madia.

There were very few black people in Warsaw, and those who were there did not tend to mingle with the populace that much because racism was rampant there. With Poland having a population of over 96% ethnic pols, and any other ethnicity not even reaching a half a percent, it wasn't exactly hard to see why.

Madia smiled at the girl. "You are my fhirst new fhriend to talk to me, so I whill call you fhriend one. De udders will have to take udder numbers. Sound ghood?"

"Friend? I'm not here for that; I'm here to watch you," the girl said under her breath, but just a tad too loudly.

"What you say? I could not hear," Madia asked, truly curious to what the girl was mumbling.

"Oh!" She looked surprised to have been caught, and a little embarrassed. "I said, uh, 'Friend? I'm hearin' that. I'm new here, too; I gotchu.'"

Madia smiled and nodded. "Ahh. What is your name, fhriend one?"

"Judy," the girl said sweetly and held out her hand for a shake. "Judy NotAnUndercoverCopSentToWatchYou."

"Such a pretty last name. So American sounding."

"Say, guys," Judy called out to the group ahead of them, "you want to hit the mall or something? I really just need to hit something; my fists are angry."

"Uh, yeah," Sam said aloud, looking back at the two as Sandy stopped next to him. "That's a good idea, new student who I've never seen in class, let alone this school, before. Madia, why don't you, uh, hit the mall with your new... friend? Sandy and I will enjoy some private time, alone, at home... but maybe with my parents watching." He laughed, like he had just told off two of the most annoying people he'd ever met, and continued to walk off with Sandy, attempting to grab a handful of her ass but merely fondling the bottom of her backpack instead.

Madia looked dismayed and neglected. And Judy took pity on her at that moment.

"Come on, Madia; let's go check out the abundance and repugnance of American wealth."