Читать книгу Were not were - - Страница 63

– Well, Katenka, how will you please us today?

The student lays out the drawings of her ridiculous club on the table in front of the teachers and looks wistfully at the professor, trying to understand from his expression whether she will be able to agree on her idea or will have to redo everything again. And the professor stared into her empty black eyes and imagines what he would do now if he were given free rein.

“Don’t you have any ideas?” “Nope.”

“Do you want me to show you now why you need your head?”

Without waiting for the student’s answer, the professor takes out a hammer with an elongated claw-claw from his briefcase and hits the student on the head with all his strength, breaking her skull. There is a crunch of bones and the lazy voice of his assistant comments:

“However, I did not expect, colleague. Pleased, at least some variety, otherwise you can die of boredom.

The professor laughs ominously and with the help of a nail puller deftly opens the student’s skull like a tin can, licks his lips carnivorously and exhales:

“Fresh brains. Colleague, do not lend your spoon, I forgot mine at home. I’ll give it to you as soon as I try.”

Having received a spoon, he scoops up a pink gelatinous mass from his opened head with a slide and swallows it greedily, squinting like a cat with pleasure.

“Well, how?” the assistant asks.

“Fresh,” exhales the professor and greedily stuffs two more spoons into himself, munching loudly.

“Shouldn’t I call other colleagues, what is now in the department?” – the assistant is interested when the professor returns the spoon to him and kindly gives him the opportunity to taste the contents of the student’s head.

“You eat, colleague, eat. There is nothing to scatter the brains of our students. They have their own. If there is anything left, then we will invite you.”

Alternately changing the spoon, they devour the brains until they are saturated.

“That’s it, I can’t do it anymore,” the professor sighs and orders, “Call the rest, colleague.”

The assistant exits and immediately returns with a group of professors, mincing one after another and happily mumbling: “Brains. Brain. Brain”.

The meal continues until there is nothing left of the student but an unsuccessful club project on paper.

The professor sighs, slowly pulls the drawings closer to him and begins to correct them, cursing himself for the fact that professional duty is always above all for him.