Poetic Injustice

by Mahna Mahna

(1-04)

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“Quinn the Brain”

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"You brought the poems?" she said, sitting in her large, Italian leather chair facing the window.

"Yes, Ms. Shoobocks." Stacy gulped and stepped all the way into the room. "But.... I.... uh...."

"What is it, Miss Rowe? I haven't got all day!" Ms. Shoobocks spun her chair around to face Stacy, who was shivering a bit in front of the office desk.

"I---heard something today. From a friend."

Ms. Shoobocks raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What?"

"My friend, Quinn..... she said that they pay some people for their poems."

"And you believed her?!"

"I---"

"Are you saying that I'm a liar?!"

"No! No! No, Ms. Shoobocks, of course not!"

"Good.... good. What a ridiculous idea. Paying people for their poems. She must think you're an idiot if she expects you to believe that."

Stacy looked at the ground. "I guess maybe she does."

"I don't think you're an idiot, Stacy. Now, you did bring the poems, right?" she asked with a hopeful look in her eye.

Stacy reached down into her backpack and pulled out a folder full of notebook paper. "Twenty Christmas poems, just like you asked."

"Excellent." Ms. Shoobocks smirked as she took the papers from her. "That will be all."

Stacy sighed and headed for the office door. "And Stacy?" said Mr. Shoobocks. "You shouldn't let other people take advantage of your naïveté like that."

"Of course not, Ms. Shoobocks."

"Good. Forty ‘Happy Anniversary’ poems for next time, then."

"Yes Ms. Shoobocks. Anything for Hallmark, Ms. Shoobocks."

Wallace: "The question is, what is a Mahna Mahna?"

Statler: "The question is, who cares?

-The Muppet Show (The Mahna Mahna Song)