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Subject: Surprise Ending


Author:
Nick
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Date Posted: 20:12:50 03/13/08 Thu

My college world history midterm exam paper was returned with "See me!!" written in big red letters at the top. The instructor, Mr. Garrison, failed to put a grade on it even though everyone sitting around me had one on his or her paper. I was worried, so I went up to him immediately after class and made an appointment to see him later that afternoonm in his office.

Mr. Garrison is a friendly man him who looks to be in his late 20's. He and I always got along well in class, and I expected to get a good grade on the midterm which consisted of 5 essay questions covering civilizations up through the Roman Empire. At the beginning of our meeting, I told him how much I studied for the exam and how I must have totally blown it to require this meeting.

"Nick," Mr. Garrison said, "your annswers were not what I expected, and quite frankly, I would be forced to give you a "D" if you made me put a grade on this. I thought we could work out something that would allow me to give you something higher. Are you interested?"

"Yes," I answered hastily. Then I began to get a little concerned as to what Mr. Garrison wanted me to do.

Just as I opened my mouth with a question, Mr. Garrison asked, "Nick, were you paddled in school?"

"Well, yes I was a few times. One time in junior high, the principal gave me three swats for fighting. Then in high school, I got a paddling from the principal for cheating on a test. I got 5 of them that time. My baseball coach whacked my butt with a paddle a few times, too."

Mr. Garrison then took a big paddle with hole drilled in it from his desk saying, "Did any of the paddles look like this, Nick?"

By now, I had a idea what I had to do to get a better grade on the midterm. "Ye--yeah," I stammered, "the high school paddle I got hit with looked a lot like that."

Mr. Garrison said, "I think some swats are in order after which I will raise your grade to an 'A.' Is it a deal?"

I reluctantly agreed. My butt was no stranger to the sting of a paddle, and I definitely wanted a better grade.

"What position did you assume in junior high, Nick?"

"Well, I had to bend over a chair with the palms of my hands flat on the seat," I answered. "In high school,I had to bend over a desk and grab onto each edge. My baseball coach made me face the wall, put my hands on the wall, and bend forward."

"I like what you had to do in high school," said Mr. Garrison. "Let's get started!"

I got up and began removing the wallet from my back pocket just as I had to do when I got paddled in high school.

"What are you doing?" asked Mr. Garrison as he handed me the paddle and bent over the desk. "I want you to paddle me for failing in my duty as an instructor. I want 10 hard swats. Give it your best home run swing, Nicky! You're a smart lad, so the low grade is my fault. If you do not do this, I'll flunk you out of my class! Is that clear?"

I did as he requested. I smacked his butt 10 times as hard as I could. The paddling must have stung a lot. His tan Dockers could not have protected his butt too well. He cried out, "I'm sorry, Nicky!" after each smack.

After the last swat, he rubbed his butt with one hand and marked a big red "A" on my paper.

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