Robert Asprin - Class Dis-Mythed

"Hey, boy," I called softly as I came over to rub his nose. "Did that disturb you?"

Buttercup nudged me to the side of his stall with his big head. I ducked under his horn and investigated the enclosure. A few mice squeaked and ran out of the straw bedding. Nothing out of the ordinary was to be found. I checked on his food supply, and forked some more hay into his manger.

"Gleep!" my pet dragon announced sleepily from the middle of the floor. I could see his snaky neck illuminated by the moonlight pouring in the open half-door.

"Is everything all right out here?" I asked. No one knew the secret we shared: that Gleep was intelligent and could speak. "Did you hear that noise?"

"Noise nothing," Gleep said, opening his big blue eyes wide. "Skeeve okay?"

"I'm fine," I assured him, scratching just behind his ears.

"Go bed. Nothing hurt. Gleep love Skeeve."

"I love you, too, Gleep."

Gleep had very keen senses. If he wasn't alarmed by the noise, I shouldn't be, either. I petted him again and went back inside.

Just in case, I put a few more 'feelers' around the door, window and fireplace flue in my room. Better to be safe than sorry.

I was in my room brooding when a knock came at the door.

"Skeeve?"

"Can it wait, Bunny?" I asked, recognizing her voice. "I'd kind of like to be alone for a while."

"We've got a visitor," came the reply. "It's my uncle. He'd like to say hello."

That was different. Aside from liking him as a person, I was well aware that her uncle was not someone you would ever want to ignore or offend.

"On the way," I called, and started for the door.

Even if I hadn't been forewarned, there was no mistaking the short, heavyset figure sitting at the dining room table. If nothing else, his trademark lavender suit was a dead giveaway.

"Don Bruce!" I said as I approached, then hesitated. As long as we had known each other, I wasn't sure what a properly respectful greeting should be.

I needn't have worried.

"Skeeve!" he crowed, popping to his feet and sweeping me into a massive hug. "How's the old pizano? How's the retirement goin'?"

"Okay, I guess," I said. "How are things with you?"

I had hoped to keep things light, but Don Bruce hadn't gotten where he was by missing things.

"Just 'okay'?" he asked, cocking his head and peering at me. "This wouldn't have anything to do with these students that Bunny's been tellin' me about, would it?"

I shot a dark glance at Bunny. While Don Bruce had been nice enough about my retiring, he had also made no secret of the fact that he wanted me back working for the Mob. As such, I wasn't wild about the fact that Bunny had let him know that I was working again, even if it was just as a teacher.

"Well, yes," I admitted. "This teaching thing is turning out to be harder than I thought."

"The kids givin' you grief?" he asked sympathetically. "Grab some wine and tell me about it."

To my surprise, I found myself pouring out my disappointment with how the class was going. Particularly, how unhappy I was with my own inability to control the bickering and backbiting among the students. I had never really chatted with Don Bruce before other than in a business context, and it was nice to unload my worries on someone who wasn't directly involved in the proceedings. He listened intently, nodding and making occasional sympathetic noises, until I finally wound down.

"I think maybe I can give you a little hand with that," he said when I was done. "Would it be okay with you if I had a word or two with these hotshot students of yours?"

That caught me flat footed.

"Um, sure, Don Bruce," I said. "If you think you can spare the time, that is."

Again, he noticed my hesitation.

"Whatzamatter?" he growled. "Don't you think I'm up to it?"

"No! It's not that at all," I said hastily. "It's just that these kids are kinda mouthy and, well, I'm not sure they'll react to you with the level of respect you're due and are used to."

Don Bruce threw back his head and laughed.

"You hear that, Bunny?" he said. "You wonder why I love this guy? I want to give him a hand and all he worries about is that my feelings might get hurt."

He leveled a pair of hard eyes on me, all trace of laughter gone.

"Just get 'em down here," he said. "Let me worry about how respectful they are."

I looked at Bunny and shrugged.

"Roust the students," I said. "Tell them we have a surprise guest lecturer."

By the time the class was assembled around the table, Don Bruce and I were standing against the wall, conversing in low tones. I was asking him about what he thought would be an appropriate introduction, while he kept insisting that I keep my comments to a bare minimum and let him handle the rest. That sounded vaguely ominous to me, but I had little choice but to go along with him.

As I turned to the group, my heart sank. The three Pervects had their heads together, giggling as they shot glances at Don Bruce, and Melvine was leaning back with his arms crossed with an "impress me" expression on his face, and Tolk was chewing at an itch on his foot. In fact, the only one who looked remotely attentive was Bee, who was watching Don Bruce with a thoughtful, puzzled expression.

"All right, class," I said, raising my voice, "I apologize for the short notice, but I didn't know this speaker would be available until he dropped in for a visit. This is Bunny's uncle, a successful businessman here on Klah, and he's offered to share his insights with us on operating in the real world."

I nodded to Don Bruce and stepped back, mentally crossing my fingers.

He stepped up to the table and took a drink of wine before starting.

There was a titter of laughter from the Pervects.

"Yes, ladies?" he asked, looking directly at them. "Was there something you wanted to ask before I started?"

"I was just wondering where you got your outfit," Jinetta said with a grin.

"Yes," Pologne added. "Do you always dress like this, or is this special for our class?"

This set the three of them to giggling again.

"I dress this way because I want to," Don Bruce said calmly after the giggles had subsided. "When you reach a given level in the real world, you get to do that. In my mind, it's better than dressing to blend with or imitate any given group, or to rebel against an established norm."

"Exactly what line of magik are you in?" Melvine asked, a note of skeptical challenge in his voice.

"I don't dabble in it myself," came the response. "When necessary, I hire it done."

"Then why should we listen—" Melvine began then seemed to think better of it. "Then exactly what kind of business are you in?"

"You might say I head a little family business," Don Bruce said with a tight smile. "Actually, it's not so little. More like what you would call a mob."

There was a moment's silence as the class exchanged glances.

"Excuse me," Melvine said, his tone cautious. "Are we talking about organized crime here?"

"Maybe that's what it's called from the outside," the Don said. "When you see it close up, like from the inside, it ain't really all that organized."

"Um, sir?" Bee said, holding up a cautious hand. "Would your name by any chance be Don Bruce?"

"Guilty as charged," the Don said with a nod, then he winked at me. "That's something you won't hear me say very often."

My students were murmuring back and forth, their tone and manner noticeably more subdued.

"Now then," Don Bruce said, returning his attention to the class, "I believe you were about to ask why you should listen to me. Before I answer that, let me ask all of you a question. Why did you all want to study under Skeeve here?"