Tales of Revenge 2: The Science Teacher

This may or may not be a work of fiction. It may or may not be based on real people and real events.

August 8, 2012

Denise Arbogast
Principal
Herman Melville Middle School

Dear Ms. Arbogast:

It has been a pleasure teaching science at your school for the past eight years. Your predecessor was an intelligent and perceptive administrator. I wish I could say the same about you.

You required us to administer the Acuity test to our 7th and 8th graders three times before the TCAP testing in March. My classes' average scores were below the state average, all three times. You didn't like that. I understand your concern. Your raise this year was partially based on TCAP scores, and you believed, like everybody else, that Acuity results can accurately predict TCAP results.

Researchers have done studies, right? Those researchers work for the Acuity company, lady. I don't work for Acuity. And I don't teach to the test. I teach to the subject.

So the day before school let out for the summer, you told me that I would not be teaching science next year. Instead, you said, I would be teaching social studies.

Did you think I would do less damage to your career in social studies?

In July, the TCAP scores came back. My classes' average scores not only beat the state average, but every student in my classes was in the 98th percentile or higher. See, you did get a nice raise. You're welcome. And now you say you want me back in the lab, teaching science again.

Your faith in me is touching. So touching, in fact, that it will be a cold day in hell before I ever teach anything in your school again - wherever that school happens to be.

Remember when the accreditation committee visited Melville MS in January? A high school principal from the neighboring town was part of that accreditation committee. He observed my teaching style, and thought you were damned lucky to have me on your faculty. Well, two weeks ago he reviewed our TCAP scores as part of his follow-up work, so he knows how my classes did. When he learned that I was no longer teaching science at your school, he recruited me to teach chemistry.

I guess that leaves two holes in your faculty list: one in science and one in social studies. I hear that word has gotten around, about the shoddy way you treat your teachers. Good luck filling those holes.

Tales of Revenge 1: Blackmail Boomerang

Mr. James Gresham
P.O. Box 3451
Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan 49783

October 11, 2011

Dear Mr. Gresham:

Thank you for staying at our getaway lodge last weekend. We are glad you enjoyed your stay. In fact, as the enclosed vidcaps show, we know that you really enjoyed your stay. How old is she? 20? 21?

We got the whole thing on video. We're planning to send a DVD to your wife. I'm sure she'll find it entertaining. But we thought we would offer it to you first. Divorce is SO expensive these days. And our getaway lodge could use a few upgrades. Like about $25,000 worth. So we will sell you the video for 25 Gs instead of giving it to your wife for free. I'm sure you will find that it's cheap at twice the price.

If we do not receive the money within 30 days, we will send the DVD to your wife. We look forward to hearing from you soon.

Sincerely,
The Management

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October 14, 2011

Dear Sam and Giovanni:

I have received your correspondence of October 11, 2011. My wife would be interested in that DVD, except that she died of cancer two years ago. Your Google search would have turned that up, if you were any good at it. (As you can see, my Google search found your names quite easily. "Sam"? Couldn't your parents be any more imaginative than that?)

The woman that I was with at your getaway lodge is my second wife. Not that it's any of your goddamn business, but she is 26. Before I married her, she was a single mother and a longtime friend of the family. We are happily married and still in the newlywed stage, which is why we decided to spend a weekend at that shitbox you call a getaway lodge.

The vidcaps were intriguing. We would both be interested in seeing the entire video, for which I will pay the sum of $10. That's ten dollars, more than enough to cover your expenses plus postage. We also want your assurance that you have destroyed every single copy of the video, except for the one in our possession.

I have a friend who likes websites that feature these kinds of videos. He knows them all. And he has a memory for faces. He recognizes women on the street from the videos, and introduces himself to them. He hasn't been wrong yet. If my perv friend tells me that he saw my video on the Web, I will go straight to the police with your letter and the vidcaps, and I'll see your sorry little asses hauled into jail for blackmail, voyeurism, and anything else I can stick against the wall.

Also, I want $25,000 from you to compensate me for the trouble you have caused me. If I don't receive that money within 30 days, I will paste your names, the name of your shitbox hotel, and the story of your little video enterprise, all over the Web. You will go out of business overnight.

After you declare bankruptcy and the bank takes back your little shitbox hotel, I will buy it from the bank just so I can have the pleasure of burning it to the ground. After it is leveled, I will plow up the parking lot, spread 12 inches of fine organic matter on top of it, and plant it with corn, the way it used to be before you built your little shitbox there.

It's your choice. I look forward to hearing from YOU soon.

Sincerely,
Jim Gresham