Survival Of The Fittest

(Continued from Scientist Studies)

Wayne arrived at yet another class. French class. The bane of Wayne's schedule. An entire block speaking a language Wayne would never understand.

Just one more class and I'm outta here. It's just too bad it has to be this class.

French was easily the foreign language that Wayne hated most. Because, at least he wasn't expected to learn any of those other languages.

Taking a seat in his usual seat towards the back corner of the class, Wayne opened his books and sprawled them across the desk.

Figuring that he had a little bit of time before class actually started, Wayne opened up his binder. He pulled out a comic book. An issue of the Thunderbolts, easily one of his favourite "superhero" teams. He'd picked up the comic on a small store during his lunch hour. Now was his first chance to read it.

Now, what has Norman Osborn gotten himself into this time?

With the comic rested on his desk, Wayne began to read. Hopefully he could get through the first several pages before the teacher showed up and started forcing Wayne to learn.

Wayne had always liked the Thunderbolts. He enjoyed the concept of having an entire comic series centered on a team of C-List bad guys. They were all fun characters, and Norman Osborn was easily one of the most fascinating villains in comics.

Wayne had always found morality to be a fascinating theme in comics. There were the "boy scouts" such as Superman and Captain America. Upstanding characters who consistently stood up for what was right. There were also the darker heroes such as Batman and Wolverine who battled with their conflicting emotions.

And that was just scratching the tip of the iceberg. No two superheroes were the same these days. They all combated different problems and fought for different reasons. Comics really were a distinct art form in his eyes.

As Wayne enjoyed the dark antics of the Thunderbolts, he heard the teacher enter the classroom. With a soft sigh, Wayne put the comic away and got out his books. It was no longer time to read grand tales of conflict and fantastic deeds. Now was the time to learn French.

Why must the Marvel universe be so much better than the real one?

French seemed to drag on and on for Wayne West. He was presently in the middle of working on some pointless worksheet. And, at this point, Wayne was completely and hopelessly lost. He had no idea of what he was doing and was now just killing time until class ended..

Pénible"? What the hell does "Pénible" mean? How will knowing the word "Pénible" enrich my life in any way or form?

With a sigh, Wayne glanced over at a nearby desk, hoping to get a peak at the answer.

Ugh... Why does this class have to be so damn painful?!?

Defeated, Wayne decided that he may as well just guess. He was never going to get the answer on his own. So, he just wrote "Pencil" on his sheet and continued on.

Fortunately, just as Wayne could take no more, the bell finally rang. He didn't even bother to look at the next few questions. He just packed up his books and ran off.

"Hasta La Vista, babies." Wayne muttered, practically breaking into a sprint as he left.

Damn. I should've taken Spanish. Spanish always sounds so much cooler than French.

((Wayne West continued in Crazy Sunshine))