Class Dis-Mythed

"—Mandius," I finished, holding out a hand to shake with Schlein. "Aahzmandius is the name."

I squeezed hard so he wouldn't think about the lack of scales on my skin. He withdrew, shaking his fingers to restore circulation.

"Pleased to meet you," Schlein said. "Well, now, Geek, let's hear today's odds, ably assisted," he confided to the magicians hovering outside the sphere, "by the beautiful Bunny."

The Geek went into his talk. "Of course you know that Sharkbait took it in the teeth last night, and went out during the brawl. Not one single fishie was able to get to the haven before time was called. That leaves the Shock Jahks at eleven to one. The Gargoyle Girls moved up the list with an excellent showing, with only one of their teammates still out on the floor at the whistle. The Sorcerer's Apprentices are four to one. They suffered a setback when Tolk the Canidian lost all his teeth dragging that Gargoyle around the floor. They've been replaced in his jaw by our dentists, but he's a sore pup this morning. The Dragonettes are still at three to one, and the All-Pervects continue to be my favorites for the championship."

Bunny pointed to the relevant details. I caught her frowning at the second-to-last line, but she switched on the brilliant smile again in time to be captured from several angles by the magicians covering the interview.

"Do you hear that, folks?" Schlein asked, beaming for the crystals. "And we move along to the next in our eating contests. You've seen quantity eating in one of our earlier episodes. Now, we challenge the contestants to eat quality—or

lack thereof. We've got five colored feathers to see who will take one in the guts for the team. Are you ready?"

While he had been talking, the globe drifted down so that we were once again in the midst of the contestants.

"Yeah!" the teams shouted. Tolk, a bandage wound around his jaws, leaped up and down. The dragon, under tight control by one of the Trolls on its team, bobbed its head.

Schlein stepped out of the bubble and pointed heavenward. "Here come the Feathers of Fate!"

Drifting lazily on the stray breezes that whisked around the huge stone bowl, the five feathers dropped toward each team. I watched them for a moment, and noticed a telltale jerk or two. The feathers were being guided by some unseen hand.

"Geek," I growled.

The Deveel turned to me apologetically. "Aahz, we've got to balance the rounds. What if we have the dragon up against the Cupy? It's no contest! The audience will hate it. I swear, there won't be anything in the food but food."

I had to settle for the compromise. At least it wasn't putting my students at a disadvantage. "All right."

Schlein was on the spot to announce the unlucky diners. "And the Feather of Fate has chosen—Grunt, for the Dragonettes!"

A hefty Troll with dark purple fur came forward, waving to the audience with both hands.

"He'll be joined by Meghan of the Shock Jahks. Here comes the red feather—Nita for the Gargoyle Girls! For the All-Pervects, Crasmer. And Bee, for the Sorcerer's Apprentices! Come on and sit down at the table, folks!"

"This one's for all the cookies, folks," Schlein announced. "Oops, sorry, kids, I shouldn't mention cookies. You don't want to think about cookies or anything you can toss. Here come our chefs! Now, remember the rules. This one's not for penalty points. You have to eat what's in the bowl AND finish it. No dinner, no dessert! The survivors—I mean, the winners—of this round go on to

our final challenge, the Monster Monster Challenge, which will determine who will Sink or Swim!"

"Now, the servers have been blindfolded," Schlein continued smoothly as five white-coated Deveels carrying trays felt their way blindly into the room. "They don't know who they're giving each dish to. You've got to pray it's something you can stomach. If you don't hold it down through the end of the round, you lose, and your team goes home. No consolation prizes—but we will give you something for your tummy. Ready?"

"Ready!" chorused the contestants.

"This way, servers! Follow the sound of my voice."

"This is the best elimination round I've ever come up with," the Geek confided as the bubble rose out of reach of the contestants.

"Sucker bet," I growled.

"Not always," the Geek said. "You won't believe how some of the players manage! A little old lady in the Imper contest won this round. Turns out she just couldn't taste anything, so it didn't bother her."

Below, the white-coated waiters made it to the table. They deposited covered dishes in front of each contestant then pulled back as the covers lifted off all by themselves. The audience let out an "Ooooooh."

I winced. All of the dishes looked sickening, but to my horror Bee had received a bowl of purple pseudopods that were all too familiar. Pervish cooking! I glared at the Geek.

"I told you, the All-Pervects were favored to win," he admitted sheepishly. "If they happened to get some home cooking, well—"

"So you cheat."