so how many points do you want for it?

this is the question that i'd ask when kids in my class would ask how many points an impromptu assignment was worth.  because points are external motivators and if that's your fire, i'll pour gas on it till the room goes up.   life is two things. the first is impressing people.  the second is bargaining.  so ... good question. how many points do you want for it?  i don't know ... 100?  how about 5?  no? okay 15 and i'll build in 65 worth of extra credit.  um .... yeah, ok, fine - deal. 

i like teaching.  i like when people tell me that boringmudaneschoolyear is better when i'm there.  who wouldn't?  well, here's how we used to learn new vocabulary. 5 new words from the password protected oxford sat examination information electronic vault, of which i bought the encrypted password off of a fearless cyber-catburglar.  (misnomer, commandeer, drivel, intrepid, invidious) 
here, then, are those words, set like so many jewels in sentences you might find in horrorfantasyromancewestern or action stories. extra points for integrated figures of speech.

the evil custodian's invidious decision was to set fire to every baby's crib and toy in town, then cast blame on the parents, which would cause a baby riot, the power of which he would harness and use to destroy the scotch tape factory, so that nobody would ever again put scotch tape on his fancy walls.  :)

in the tiny backwater of newburyport, the cia is actively searching for a brazen catburglar, whose occupational name is not a misnomer, for stealing pajama bottoms, priceless feline of the fritzz family.

cap't barrrrrree, known enemy to all that was civilized, loathed resister of silverware, wiped the greasy remains of the sea-turtle soup from his chin across the sleeve of his filthy frock, and belched out to his surly crew, 'arggg, lads, i've long had me good eye on commandeering this vessel of ol' jack tar, and the last scallywag to board her be a rotten slag - arggg.'

'i can't,' began the student, holding up her most recent essay assignment, 'keep churning out this terrible drivel for you, madame, so i've decided to blow the dust of seven pixie stix into your eyeballs.'

clab wade, intrepid cowboy of the frontier town of bingham, hitched his horse, buttercup, to the post and stared coolly into jimmy's saloon, into which he would shortly stride and deliver a somerset county caliber thrashing to the town's former sheriff, simply known as boss, for the latter's insults to clab's sweetheart, ashley 'lil' junebug' oakley.

well, that's that. five cool fancy silver dollar words that you'll surely never forget.  if this were really school we'd vote and there'd be winners and losers, and there'd be different kinds of winning, and different kinds of losing, like in life.  so this was a bit of reality and a bit of fantasy.
for all of the drawers full of mismatched socks out there.