Robert Asprin - Class Dis-Mythed

"And is it?" the winsome reporter asked with a huge smile toward the crystal ball.

Bee nodded vigorously. "Oh, yes, ma'am. It's about the most exciting thing I've ever done!"

"He's going to get killed," I pronounced glumly. "All he ever wanted was a head start on his new profession, and he's going to die in a game show. I thought I was helping him!"

"You ought to be proud," Tanda said. "He's taking a chance. Most of your people never get the opportunity to really test themselves like this."

Bunny agreed.

"Everyone at the unicorn show was really impressed when I said they were all your students. The Geek is right. They're doing really well."

"How?" I demanded. "They're still as raw as steak tartare!"

"Oh, you wouldn't believe it," Tananda assured me. "You'd never know they're complete amateurs. I've never seen Pervects cooperate with any other race like that, well, since you and Aahz, really. The whole group operates like a well-oiled machine. They split up a task and tackle it. You'd think they had the details of every event planned out in advance."

"Knowing the Geek, someone might be tipping them off," I said worriedly. I scanned the other teams and groaned. Dragons! Trolls! Landsharks! Deveels! The opposition looked like the Who's Who Compendium of Tough Competitors. Next to them, my students looked like a field trip from a junior high school.

"But they all take an oath to play fair," Bunny insisted. "They wouldn't cheat."

"If they were told that being given the information was part of the game, they may not be aware it was cheating. Remember, they really are new at this. They won't know they're being manipulated," I said.

"Are you sure?" Bunny asked. "Melvine sounded pretty savvy."

"I think it's all window-dressing," I said. "He bluffed a lot. He'd say he knew how to cast a spell even when he had no idea."

"What about the Pervects?" Tanda asked.

"College students," I moaned. "They believed everything their professors told them. They would take anything an authority figure said at face value."

"Shh!" Bunny said. "The game is beginning."

The team pictures vanished in a dazzling array of colored lights. Schlein emerged in the center of the coruscation and smiled directly at us.

"And for our first task tonight, the Hot Potato contest! Yes, this is a very popular competition. All of the teams will send a representative to the Arena. This is a very special hot potato, as all of you know."

An irregular brown oblong appeared in Schlein's hand. He tossed it up and down a couple of times. "It gets hot then hotter then hottest! The player who handles it last is the winner! Of course, the one still holding onto it when it explodes loses. And occasionally we lose a couple of audience members, too, but it's all in good fun. So, who will win…Hot Potato?"

The invisible orchestra produced a deafening fanfare. The lights died away, leaving eight spotlights pointing down at the stage.

"Oh, who will the Sorcerer's Apprentices send?" Bunny asked, bouncing up and down in her seat clutching a handkerchief between her hands. "The Pervects can't handle fire. Tolk will burn his mouth! And Bee—"

In a moment we had our answer. On the floor of an arena with deeply raked sides, eight figures each took their places on a circle of light. A huge Troll, an Imp, a male Pervect, a female Jahk, a Gargoyle, a muscular man without a hair on his head, and a flying shark stomped, strode or wriggled into view. They were joined by a tiny figure wringing his hands together over his head in a sign of victory.

"Melvine?" I asked.

"Don't worry about him. We're pretty impervious to heat," Markie said, waving away my concern. "It's one of the first things you learn in fourth grade. That's the Fire Elemental class."

Schlein appeared on the center of the circle of contestants. He held up the brown potato, and tossed it to the Troll. The Troll caught it between thumb and forefinger and threw it to the next contestant in line, who passed it on at once. It didn't look like a challenging contest to start.

I was wrong. Before the vegetable had made a complete round it started glowing slightly. Sweat breaking out on the face of the Imp told me that it had grown almost too hot for him already. He tossed it away and rubbed his palms together. Disdainfully, the Pervect received the missile and sent it on. The Jahk threw it to the Gargoyle with a pained shriek.

"That hurts!" she cried.

"Come on, sweetie, suck it up!" Tanda advised the image. "You're a Jahk!"

The Gargoyle had no trouble holding onto the potato, but he wasn't very good at throwing. The bald male had to dive for the potato, and tossed it in his hands until he all but batted it toward the shark.

Faster and faster the glowing spud went around the ring. It burst into flames on the sixth round. The Troll yelped and started batting at the fur on his arms. Flames licked up and down his limbs. He had set himself on fire. While he was batting out the fire, the potato hit the ground.

"You're out!" Schlein's voice called.

"Aarrrgggghhh!" the Troll snarled. He stomped away. Gingerly, the Imp snatched up the potato and flicked it in the direction of the Pervect.

The Pervect held out his hands for it. I thought it was pretty brave of him, since fire is one of the few things that could harm his kind. At the last moment the flaming missile took a curve. Someone in the circle was trying to keep it away from him. The Pervect snarled and reached for it with his own magikal force. The missile did a right angle in mid air and headed for his palms. It looked like he had it in the bag, but at the moment before impact he winced, closing his eyes. The potato dropped straight down, hitting the ground. The Pervect opened his eyes, looked at his empty palms, and glared at the others.

"Who did that?" he demanded. The others all favored him with innocent expressions that changed to gleeful leers.

"All's fair in love and Sink or Swim" Schlein's cheerful voice said.

The Pervect gave his fellow contestants one killing glance, and stalked off to join the Troll on the sidelines.

The Jahk did better in the next circuit, speedily handing off the flickering potato to the Gargoyle. It looked like the Bald Guy with Muscles was going to make it one more round. His jaw was set. Bravely, he conveyed it to the shark then dropped to his knees. He held up his hands, and the crystal balls zoomed in to show them. The palms were blistered and swollen to twice their normal size. I cringed in sympathy.

"Medic!" shouted Schlein.

A couple of Sittacomedians in whites came racing onto the stage with a stretcher between them. The Bald Man waved them away, though perspiration ran down his face like a waterfall.

"It's just a scratch," he insisted.

In unison, Bunny, Tananda and Markie stated, "Men."

He was out. The Jahk joined him next, followed by the shark, who lost half a row of teeth three rounds later. Fortunately, he had several other rows of gleaming white fangs.

The Imp, still in the game, grinned madly at the departure of his fellow contestants. He underhanded the now incandescent potato to the Gargoyle. He made it look so easy I was suspicious. Imps were no more immune to heat than Klahds or Jahks. What was going on? It seemed as though I wasn't the only one who wondered about it. A green-skinned, tunic-clad official I hadn't noticed before came marching out onto the floor, and grabbed the Imp by the wrist. He examined the pink male's palms.

"He's wearing Burn Cream!" announced the Sittacomedian.

"No, never!" the Imp protested as he was hauled off the stage. "It wasn't me! They told me it was all right! I didn't do it! It's just magik!"