The faculty went on one of those silly "retreats" where they camp out and sit around a fire, to "relate".
My guy, quiet like, brought a paint ball pistol. If the Stupid got too deep, he would puncture it, and let the feces out. They were too afraid of him to complain, at the moment, and when they went home, the school pres pointed out that no one locally wanted the job.
He was there for three years...
Hahahahaha! That’s a great story!
It kind of reminds me of Rule Ten of Dating a Drill Instructor’s Daughter:
Rule Ten:
Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistake the sound of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming in over a rice paddy near Hanoi. When my Agent Orange starts acting up, the voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you to bring my daughter home. As soon as you pull into the driveway you should exit your car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter password, announce in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter home safely and early, then return to your car - there is no need for you to come inside. The camouflaged face at the window is mine.