From: johnr@cat15.cs.wisc.edu (John Richards)
Subject: Senseless violence - Do not read
Organization: University of Wisconsin, Madison -- Computer Sciences Dept.
Date: Sun, 22 Nov 1992 07:30:12 GMT

I think Bob's telling me to leave school.  I was sitting in front of my 
computer, searching the Usenet for some slack, when he took my little 
pink hands in his and made me type this.
 
***************
 
	So I'm sitting in my AI class, bored as usual but trying to pay 
attention to the lecture because an exam is coming up and I haven't been 
taking notes since the last exam.  I'm hanging out in the back of the 
lecture, hoping that my professor will never learn to recognize me.  A 
guy and a girl, obviously a couple, are in the row ahead of me. I've seen 
them before, they're always whispering back and forth, writing things on 
each other's notes,  and generally pissing me off.  They're so stylish 
and smug, him wearing a fluorescent ski parka and her wearing an ankle 
length down coat.
	This time, however, as the girl turns to the guy, her hand reaches 
up towards the back of his head, and I notice that it is green and scaly 
and has nasty looking unpolished nails.  For that matter, her face is 
scaly too, and as her hand grabs his ponytail (convenient handle) her 
mouth opens to reveal a multitude of yellow, needle like fangs.  Her 
other hand quickly covers his face, and in one quick motion, with a 
muffled crunching sound, she takes a large bite out of the side of his 
head.
	I glance up at the board, to which my professor is mumbling, as 
usual (I don't know why I worry about the professor recognizing me, since 
he never looks at any of us).  I've missed a couple lines of notes.  
Sure, there's this green scaly beast consuming a guy in front of me, but 
I need the review material that the professor is covering.  The hand of 
the guy in front of me is twitching, and his pen drops to the floor.  The 
person in front of him picks it up and drops it over their shoulder onto 
his desk, never looking back.
	I could get up and leave, but the only exit to the classroom is in 
the front and the professor might look my way, think I'm rude, and give 
me an F on the exam.  There's only about five minutes left in the class 
anyway.  Blood is dripping down between the seats onto one of my shoes, 
so I quietly shift my legs over to the other side.  At least the 
classroom slopes away from me, so that the blood is running towards the 
front.  His hand has stopped twitching too, so I return my attention to 
the lecture.  First Order Predicate Calculus.  Boring as hell, but I'm 
not falling asleep during this class today.
	The creature in front of me disdainfully releases the remains of 
his head, as if all the good parts are gone.  His corpse slumps away from 
her, splattering blood on my shoes again.  Some days, you just can't win.  
The beast turns towards me, blood looking black against her deep green 
skin as it covers her mouth and drips down her chin, and I begin to 
rethink whether or not I should have left the class.  Her eyes are 
vertical slits in gold irises, transfixing me in my seat.
	Luckily she turns forward, to the row in front of her.  A foreign 
exchange student is furiously writing every word the professor says, 
though he never seemed to understand the two or three sentences I said to 
him.  In a fluid motion she put one shoeless, flexible, clawed foot on 
his shoulder and one hand under his chin, tilting his head back 
forcefully until it gives an audible 'crack'.  She releases his head, as 
if admiring her handiwork as he stares towards the back part of the room, 
body still facing forward.  His eyes and lips move, but I doubt he'll be 
running to TA office hours anytime soon.  I wonder if he enjoyed looking 
at the world upside down when he was a kid.  I know I did.  The creature 
finishes him with a solid bite to the trachea.  Blood spurts everywhere, 
splattering the notes of some people closer to the front.  I see them try 
to brush it off, but it only smears.  In sync, they all turn to new 
pages.
	The bell signaling the end of class rings, so I pack up my bag and 
start to file out of the room with the rest of the people.  Someone to my 
right falls forward to the floor, and I glance down to see a familiar 
hand around his ankle.  The reptilian monster scampers up the victim's 
back, and I try to figure out if I know the face down person, trying 
weakly to push up off the floor, but I can't even tell what sex the 
person is.  Damn androgyny of college students.
	As I leave the classroom, I idly hope that we have a different 
room for the exam next class.
 
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