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smash_logs2013-02-05 09:38 pm
ihateplumbers) wrote in smash_logs2013-02-05 09:38 pm
Entry tags:
Calling Cards: It's Like Art Class But Instead It Sucks
Who: Bowser and Students
What: Etiquette Class
Where: A Classroom
When: Wednesday, Feb. 6th
Warnings: Uh, douchebag lizard?
Bowser, always a really great teacher at all times, had taken to reading things out of books to his students. Books that Kamek had left around from his errant youth, or something. Today's selection was from that classic, Our Deportment; or, The Manners, Conduct, and Dress of the Most Refined Society; Including Forms for Letters, Invitations, etc. Also, Valuable Suggestions on Home Culture and Training. Compiled from the Latest Reliable Authorities. The latest reliable authorities in 1881. Sure to be a favorite among everyone involved.
Bowser, as a giant lizard, sat in his teacher's chair and read in a voice dripping with languor read aloud to his classroom, the book held daintily in his giant claws, "To the unrefined or underbred, the visiting card is but a trifling and insignificant bit of paper; but to the cultured disciple of social law, it conveys a subtle and unmistakable intelligence. Its texture, style of engraving, and even the hour of leaving it combine to place the stranger, whose name it bears, in a pleasant or a disagreeable attitude, even before his manners, conversation and face have been able to explain his social position. The higher the civilization of a community, the more careful it is to preserve the elegance of its social forms. It is quite as easy to express a perfect breeding in the fashionable formalities of cards, as by any other method, and perhaps, indeed, it is the safest herald of an introduction for a stranger. Its texture should be fine, its engraving a plain script, its size neither too small, so that its recipients shall say to themselves, 'A whimsical person,' nor too large to suggest ostentation. Refinement seldom touches extremes in anything."
Bowser set the book down on his desk and looked over at his class. "As a king," said the king, haughtily, "of course I have a calling card. I have several. Dozens, in fact." They'd been made at the highest expense last night when he'd read that classy people were supposed to have calling cards. "The very best sorts of people do, of course. Low class chumps, such as plumbers and tomboy princesses and mail-carrying paratroopas and the like don't carry them. You, however, should have a calling card, if you want to hope to ever belong to the upper-levels of society such as I, as a king, already belong to. So today, you're going to design calling cards. Next week they'll arrive and you can all practice leaving them with each other, like classy people, like me, do."
They would be made, of course, at the very highest expense and, of course, billed to someone. Bowser hadn't made up his mind yet if it would be the school that was paying for them, and so drain the coffers of this gauche institution, or the students themselves, as part of the fees for the course at the end of the term. Maybe both. Double billing sounded nicest.
"A few notes on calling cards," said Bowser. "Never include any information other than your name -- these aren't business cards. The first person to choose comic sans gets set on fire. Cursive script is best, black letter is acceptable. You may include a design on it if you like, but leave room for your name."
Bowser glared at the classroom from his desk. "There's boxes of blank cards, glue, scissors, fountain pens" (the use of the ball pen is the end of society, dear reader) "etc, in the back. Some of the cards have designs on them. Or if you're a good enough artist," and here Bowser snorted, "you can draw your own little design on them. Now go. When you're done, bring them up to me and I'll grade them for you and then have them sent off to the engravers."
How wonderful.
((Here are a few links to Victorian-era calling cards just in case you don't know what they look like but would like some inspiration. They don't have to be a vomit of flowers and birds, though. Draw your own in MS Paint or what-have-you. Describe it using the power of words. Put a basketball and a pizza on the card. Maybe there's some glue and a magazine somewhere your character can cut and paste with. MAKE A CARD. BE A PERSON OF DISTINCTION AND CLASS.))
What: Etiquette Class
Where: A Classroom
When: Wednesday, Feb. 6th
Warnings: Uh, douchebag lizard?
Bowser, always a really great teacher at all times, had taken to reading things out of books to his students. Books that Kamek had left around from his errant youth, or something. Today's selection was from that classic, Our Deportment; or, The Manners, Conduct, and Dress of the Most Refined Society; Including Forms for Letters, Invitations, etc. Also, Valuable Suggestions on Home Culture and Training. Compiled from the Latest Reliable Authorities. The latest reliable authorities in 1881. Sure to be a favorite among everyone involved.
Bowser, as a giant lizard, sat in his teacher's chair and read in a voice dripping with languor read aloud to his classroom, the book held daintily in his giant claws, "To the unrefined or underbred, the visiting card is but a trifling and insignificant bit of paper; but to the cultured disciple of social law, it conveys a subtle and unmistakable intelligence. Its texture, style of engraving, and even the hour of leaving it combine to place the stranger, whose name it bears, in a pleasant or a disagreeable attitude, even before his manners, conversation and face have been able to explain his social position. The higher the civilization of a community, the more careful it is to preserve the elegance of its social forms. It is quite as easy to express a perfect breeding in the fashionable formalities of cards, as by any other method, and perhaps, indeed, it is the safest herald of an introduction for a stranger. Its texture should be fine, its engraving a plain script, its size neither too small, so that its recipients shall say to themselves, 'A whimsical person,' nor too large to suggest ostentation. Refinement seldom touches extremes in anything."
Bowser set the book down on his desk and looked over at his class. "As a king," said the king, haughtily, "of course I have a calling card. I have several. Dozens, in fact." They'd been made at the highest expense last night when he'd read that classy people were supposed to have calling cards. "The very best sorts of people do, of course. Low class chumps, such as plumbers and tomboy princesses and mail-carrying paratroopas and the like don't carry them. You, however, should have a calling card, if you want to hope to ever belong to the upper-levels of society such as I, as a king, already belong to. So today, you're going to design calling cards. Next week they'll arrive and you can all practice leaving them with each other, like classy people, like me, do."
They would be made, of course, at the very highest expense and, of course, billed to someone. Bowser hadn't made up his mind yet if it would be the school that was paying for them, and so drain the coffers of this gauche institution, or the students themselves, as part of the fees for the course at the end of the term. Maybe both. Double billing sounded nicest.
"A few notes on calling cards," said Bowser. "Never include any information other than your name -- these aren't business cards. The first person to choose comic sans gets set on fire. Cursive script is best, black letter is acceptable. You may include a design on it if you like, but leave room for your name."
Bowser glared at the classroom from his desk. "There's boxes of blank cards, glue, scissors, fountain pens" (the use of the ball pen is the end of society, dear reader) "etc, in the back. Some of the cards have designs on them. Or if you're a good enough artist," and here Bowser snorted, "you can draw your own little design on them. Now go. When you're done, bring them up to me and I'll grade them for you and then have them sent off to the engravers."
How wonderful.
((Here are a few links to Victorian-era calling cards just in case you don't know what they look like but would like some inspiration. They don't have to be a vomit of flowers and birds, though. Draw your own in MS Paint or what-have-you. Describe it using the power of words. Put a basketball and a pizza on the card. Maybe there's some glue and a magazine somewhere your character can cut and paste with. MAKE A CARD. BE A PERSON OF DISTINCTION AND CLASS.))
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Attendance
no subject
no subject
no subject
/follows jess's tag
no subject
Questions/Comments
no subject
There is a pause, as she stares at the fountain pens and blank cards. "What's a... Comic Sans?"
no subject
"A stupid way of writing things," said Bowser. "The way low-class people write," he added.
Hope that helped.
no subject
Not really.
Re: Questions/Comments
Though, it soon dawned on him that he knew nothing about how to operate this particular type of stylus. Where was the wireless signal? How was it supposed to interface with the graphic display? He turned it over and over in his hands, finally discovering a small lever on one side, near the thick end. Investigating the function of the lever, he pushed it inward, which resulted in a small jet of black ink spraying him in the face.]
Argh!
[He carefully placed the stylus down and raised his hand for questioning, ink dripping from his helmet. It did not appear at first to have covered any part of the visor which shielded his eyes, which was also black, though it became apparent by how one of his eyes seemed to have completely disappeared.]
Mister Bowser, I'm afraid I'm having trouble with my writing tool.
no subject
So stop using it wrong. It's a pen.
no subject
[Well that made sense. ...Kind of. Pulse looked down at the writing instrument and inspected it again, this time refraining from manipulating the lever. Indeed, it had the tip of a fountain pen, which he recognized, having seen it used as an icon in the tools panel of several popular graphic design programs. So this was an actual real pen... huh.]
I understand. Thank you, sir.
[He practiced holding it for a moment before turning his attention to his card, which unfortunately was spattered with ink from his incident during the first investigation. He looked back up toward the giant horned reptile teaching the class.]
Mister Bowser, if I make a mistake on my card, am I allowed to get a new one?
no subject
That would be wasteful. No.
no subject
[He then silently leaned in toward the small ink-spotted card, pen in hand, and diligently did his best to make the most of it, asking no more questions. At some point he realized it would be better if he could see out of both panels on his helmet, and managed to wipe some of the ink off with his hand, ending up with a glove covered in ink as well. He had pretty much resolved himself to the fact that he was going to have to perform a major clean-up job on himself, as well as his work area. He had a strong feeling that cleaning the work area would take priority.]
Card Get!
no subject
WOW, AMAZING
no subject
He stares at the design.
"So you love donuts? Is that it? You're Hilda, the donuteer?"
no subject
Hilda the donuteer pulls her hat out of her bag (as it is not part of the uniform) and points to the doughnut on it. "Check it, it's a Poke Ball!"
no subject
no subject
no subject
I'm pretty sure that's a donut-container.Bowser peered down at the ball. He then peered down at the card. Back to the ball. Then the card again.
"So why did you draw
the donut-catcherit like it was a donut?"What card?
So he had no card to present. Oops....
You're useless
"Where is your card?" Bowser asked, looming above the small boy.
wups
"...Card?" He looked down at his desk. "...Oh."
He took the pen in hand and then he stared off some more.
Re: Card Get!
Lurkers