In a few journal entries ago, a posting from my now-defunct Website—saved from a feature called “Comedy Corner”—had found its way onto these pages. The former humorous venue was open to anyone who wanted to contribute to the typical nonsense that prevailed. Many characters joined in the banter and became regulars there, as was mentioned about the author of the previous rant written by Fargo North Decoder.
The following was provided by Kristen van Ouven: a substitute school teacher from Beckley, West Virginia; and somewhat of a dizzy, but well-meaning gal who became the darling of the comedic forum. The skit is reproduced as was posted originally.
Kristen has joined Comedy Corner at 20:59:23; 29th February 2000
Happy Leap Day! February’s done and there’s one last dreary month left of
winter here in the Nothern Hemisphere. It’s supposed to be cold in Beckley
tomorrow, so being that March is coming in like a lion, maybe it will go
out like a lamb and bring us an early spring.
Yesterday I had to fill in for Mrs. Dastardly, the first grade teacher who
was home sick with the flu. It was a refreshing change, so I thought, to
review some of the teaching methods I had learned about dealing with fresh,
innocent minds. I decided to do a study of children’s senses using a bowl
of Lifesavers. I gave the kids all different colors of Lifesavers first,
and asked them, “What is the flavor of each color I just gave you?”
The children began to recite, “Red is for ‘cherry’; yellow for ‘lemon,’
green for ‘lime,’ and orange for ‘orange.'”
“Well done!” I said and then gave them all honey Lifesavers, telling the
darlings to suck on them for a while and then tell me what flavor it was.
Not one child could answer. “Well,” I said, “I’ll give you a clue. It’s
what your mother would call your father.”
Johnny Hatfield’s little sister, who happened to be in the first-grade
class, looked up in horror. The candy was instantly jet-propelled from her
mouth, after which she yelled: “Everybody, spit it out, quick! They’re
dumb asses.” Lifesavers began hurling everywhere! It’s amazing how far
first graders are able to launch half-eaten, little, round, sticky,
honey-flavored projectiles. One even stuck on the front of the school
librarian’s dress in a most strategic spot, centralized on her left breast.
She had run in to see what all the commotion was about and didn’t
notice it there. I wasn’t about to tell her.
It took all of lunch period to clean up the classroom, as we were expecting
a visit from US Army General Reinwald, whose grandson’s boy scout troop has
their meetings in the school gym. This summer, Beckley Scout Troop Number 9
will be going to Ft. Campbell on a four-day camping trip sponsored by the
General. He was in town to visit with his family, tour the Beckley Elementary
School, and to answer any questions about the camporee.
At sixth period, we were all ushered into the auditorium, where most every
one of the student’s parents came to be seated along with the city and county
officials, and the area media covering the event. Not much happens in this
little city of 18,000 people. During the question and answer period, I
raised my hand to get the General’s attention and was called upon. “So,
General Reinwald, what things are you going to teach these young boys while
they visit one of your army installations?” I inquired.
“We’re going to teach them climbing, canoeing, archery, and shooting.” he
“Shooting? That’s a bit irresponsible, isn’t it?” I stated.
“I don’t see why. They’ll be properly supervised on the rifle range.”
countered the General.
“Don’t you admit that this is a terribly dangerous activity to be teaching
children?” I asked coyly.
“I don’t see how. We will be teaching them proper rifle-range discipline
before they ever touch a firearm.” he responded.
“But you’re equipping them to become violent killers.” I shot back.
“Well, you’re equipped to be a jezebel, but you’re not one, are you?” he
said with a half-cocked smile. I was speechless. Touché! Score: General
Reinwald 1, Kristen van Ouven 0. I rapidly took my seat, terribly
As we were leaving the auditorium, the school librarian ran up to me and
chimmed: “I guess he told you!”
At that point, the General came up to me and said, “No hard feelings, I
“No, Sir.” I replied; “but with all the craziness going on around the country,
with young children bringing firearms to school and brutally killing innocent
victims, I am quite concerned about youngsters being taught how to use guns.”
“I understand, Miss,” he said and shook my hand. He then stopped and stared
at the school librarian for a moment and commented: “And what flavor is that
Lifesaver?” while pointing to the one stuck to her left breast.”
Not being able to contain myself, I said, “Sour Puss.”
“I didn’t think it was cherry!” joked the General as he walked away laughing.
“I guess he told you,” I yelled over to my adversary as she ran off visibly
shaken. The General turned around and gave me a wink. He wasn’t such a bad
guy after all.