Your Son Is Literally Too Cool For School
By: Keaton Patti
Tags: High School, School, Humor, Cool, Satire

Photo by Sean Pollock on Unsplash

First of all, Mr. and Mrs. Mason, thank you for taking the time out of your schedules for this parents-and-principal meeting. I understand you’re both civil engineers and I know Fall is terribly busy for you since if enough leaves falls on a bridge, it will surely collapse. That’s never happened? Interesting, but I’m going to keep believing it has happened. Regardless, this isn’t about me. It’s about your son. I brought you in today because your boy Ryan simply thinks he’s too cool for school.

And I 100% agree.

Ryan really is something else. If Joe Camel and Fonzie had a baby, Ryan would still be cooler than that disfigured camel-human hybrid abomination. Why just yesterday Ryan played a guitar riff so slick and nasty that it cured his band teacher’s clinical depression. That was just an off-the-cuff riff and it erased 40 years of chemical imbalance! So cool. He shouldn’t be cooped up here at Green Forest Academy with a bunch of stodgy books, lame depressed teachers, and even lamer and more depressed students. Ryan, or Ry-dog as the faculty and I call him at our daily “What Badass Things Did Ry-dog Do Today” debriefings, deserves much better. I don’t know if the X Games has a school, but if they do, that seems like the perfect place for Ry-dog to be. He could be with equally rad peers as they attend class inside of a sick half-pipe, learning from a talking Lamborghini.

Okay, I just searched and the X Games doesn’t have a school. And why would they? Schools are the opposite of cool, and I say that as a man who runs and lives inside a school. So, truly I think Ry-dog would be best served dropping out entirely.

Also, please don’t tell anyone that I live in the school. I know it’s wrong, but one time when I invited Ry-dog into my office to find out how he got his hair to look so damn cool (“Rub it with cigarettes,” he told me, dripping with charisma), he happened to see a picture of my house and said it looked “uber stupid.” Of course, I quickly lied and told him, “Yeah, I know. That’s a picture of a random idiot’s house. I only have it in my office to remind myself how much better my house is. My house is a giant frisbee. That is, if frisbees are still cool. If they aren’t, I meant my house is a stack of Playboys.” Obviously, I immediately sold my house and have been sleeping in the cafeteria since then.

Now I understand letting a 14-year-old drop out of 9th grade might sound extreme, but Ry-dog isn’t an ordinary 14-year-old now is he? He can skateboard in 5 different languages. He’s a freshman but got invited to prom by a senior, a teacher, and myself. He’s never even taken his bitchin’ dark sunglasses off.

Wait, is Ry-dog blind? That’d be so cool if he was blind. He’s not? Wow, that’s even cooler.

Point is, he’s not like the rest of the losers at this school. Let him drop out, get him a motorcycle, and allow him to wheelie around the country so everyone can look at him and go, “Whoa, is that Miles Davis reborn as a 14-year-old boy?”

It’s difficult for me to recommend this, of course, since I feel cool just being near Ry-dog every day at school. You know, I became a principal to hang out with the type of cool kids who used to make fun of me when I was a student. You didn’t know that? Weird. It’s in my Principal Bio on the school’s website. Right next to Ry-dog’s bio that details his many epic one-liners and the numerous times celebrities have asked to take photos with him. I still can’t believe Ry-dog turned down Tom Cruise by saying, “Nah, Tommy boy, you’d just ruin the pic by having your Eyes Wide Shut.”

Say, he hasn’t ever brought me up in conversation with you two, has he? No? Shucks, I thought I left an impression! I started saying “shucks” after I heard Ry-dog using it. Jeez, he’s so shucking cool.

Anyways, you just need to sign here to officially let him drop out. And he just needs to sign this other piece of paper. That doesn’t have to do with him leaving school, I just want him to autograph my last will and testament so after I die people will be aware that I knew Ry-dog The Great, as I’m sure he’ll be known in the future when he’s emperor of the whole shucking galaxy.

You need time to think it over? That doesn’t sound like a dope-nasty thing to do. Are you positive you’re Ry-dog’s parents? I suppose coolness is a recessive gene…

What am I talking about? Ry-dog doesn’t have any recessive genes! All dominant with him. Probably has 69 chromosomes too. Kids say that’s a cool number nowadays. I think it has to do with sex, which also is apparently cool nowadays too. Maybe one day I’ll give it a try, eh?

Wow. Got a little awkward in here, didn’t it? Ry-dog’s never been awkward. He doesn’t even know the meaning of the word. God, Ryan’s lack of word knowledge is so damn cool. Whoops, I shouldn’t take his name in vain.

Obviously, I meant Ryan’s name, not God’s.

God wishes he was Ry-dog.