Thank you for your warm reception fellow vice principals. It's an honour and a privilege to be your designated speaker here tonight. I love being a vice-principal. Being a vice-principal for me,is not like almost being a principal. I say if that's how you feel then hit the road, Jack. As for all that hero stuff,well that's just the media. I'm just the same Danny Husk that I've always been. I'm certainly not a hero to my wife otherwise she wouldn't have left me. Is it hot in here. It feels hot. Uh huh. Phew. I remember it like it was yesterday. Not my wife leaving me of course,but rather the day that the boy went berserk at school,although I have to admit,I do confuse them. Certainly the shooting was worse but that's not the way I see it. No offence to the dead. It's definitely hot in here. Can we open up a window, oh they don't open. Okay, I'm going to take my jacket off if you don't mind.
(He takes his jacket off revealing huge sweat stains. Regardless, he continues to sweat freely.)
That's better. Now I can think. So, I'm in my classroom before class working out my lesson plan on the blackboard. I still teach. As a vice principal, I don't have to but I like to stay in the game. I teach shop and anger management. So, as I said, I'm at the blackboard and uh, I hear what sounds like popping noises in the hall. My first thought is that someone is setting off firecrackers and we have a zero tolerance policy to firecrackers, so I stop doodling the picture I was doing of my wife having her head ripped off by an eagle and I go to the door and just before I get to it, I hear a series of loud screams. So, I think, oh it's the Drama class and they're rehearsing their upcoming production of "Pulp Fiction" which I look forward to. Then I think okay, Fine, leave me but for a principal.
(He loosens his tie and sweeps back his sopping wet hair)
It's hotter than a whorehouse in July. Jeez. So, I open the door and standing just down the hall is a student named Michael Lipchick. I recognize him from my anger management class. He has a crazed look on his face and he's holding a big gun which he's firing willy nilly down the hall at fleeing students. My first thought is, well he's certainly going to fail and then he points the gun at me and says "Die, bitch." which I think is an odd way to address a vice principal. So I say, uh, "No, Michael, the bitch is my wife" and he laughs and without thinking,I throw my piece of chalk at him. It hits him between his eyes and he puts his hands up to block it even though it's already hit him and then somehow or other,I grab the gun and proceed to beat the living crap out of him.
I'm glad the authorities arrived as fast as they did and pulled me off him because they said if they'd come any later, I would have killed her. I mean him. I guess the best thing that's come out of all this,is that now I no longer have the urge to kill. Thank you Michael for that small blessing but I still hope you don't wake up. Now if you'll excuse me,I'm going to go change out of these wet togs and then bury myself in a good bottle of Grisham. Good night.