The Gayzer

by Charon the Chronicler

Rating: teen
Tags: Human, Comedy, Random
Length: 1926

50% Janitor, 50% Science teacher, 50% Mad scientist, 31.4% Insane, 0% Math enthusist, and 100% Amazing. Mr.Dis is a man of many talents with a heart of gold. So when he finds something is dreadfully wrong at Canterlot High, he intends to fix it.

Mr.Dis had seen all the signs.

Those forlorn looks, those passing glances full of desire. But it just couldn't be, right? It went against all odds. Maybe it was something in the water? Luckily for him, Mr. Dis is the world's leading expert in genetics, economics, and fine sandwich cuisine, unbeknownst to those in second place. So with the help of his monkey, Coco (affectionately named after one of his students), and his secret lab, Mr. Dis will find the cause of all Canterlot High's heartbreak, and bring happiness to all.

In his own special way, of course.

Another cold pizza idea, yay!

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2015-06-07 03:07:06 UTC

I Regret Nothing

The two police officers stared down the detained man.

Usually, a suspect would be cowering underneath their gazes, or even glaring back at them until they cracked like a cheap chair under a lady with an equally cheap but substantial appetite.

This one was anything but the usual.

He wore a black latex suit over his entire body, save his face, which was half covered by a broken porcelain baby mask covered in red stains. On his back were a pair of disheveled wings with the price tag sticker still stuck on it.

“Okay, dirtbag.” One of the officers growled. “Give me one reason we shouldn’t give you twenty years for…whatever it is you did.”

“YEAH!” Hollered the other one.

“Gentlemen!” The suspect said melodiously. “There is no reason for these hard feelings and violent threats. The only crime I have ever committed is jayswimming at the marina. And tax evasion, but that’s not what I’m here for.”

“Ha! We’ve got you for tax evasion!” The blue-haired officer exclaimed. “Whether you admit your crimes or not, you’re going in!”

“Hogwash! The statute of limitations had long since passed for that crime.”

“Sir,” The man gritted his teeth in frustration, “We have you listed at thirty-two years old. If there was a statute of limitations for tax evasion, which there isn’t, you would have committed tax evasion before you were twelve.”

“Ah, yes.” A lone tear rolled down the criminal’s visible cheek. “Eleven-year-old Cord Dis really struggled to make ends meet. Sadly, tax evasion was the only option.”

The officer blinked a few times while his muscular blonde companion continued to stare angrily at Mr. Dis. Finally, the officer threw his arms into the air in exasperation.

“We’re getting off-topic! Just tell us, from the beginning, how all of this madness went down.”

Mr. Dis leaned back in his chair and began his tale.

“It all began in my illegally zoned underground lab…”

“I think I’m coming close to a breakthrough, Coco!”

The monkey eeked dispassionately as he continued writing his book on the typewriter under some ridiculous pen-name, Shaky Pear or something. But the marvelous Cord Dis would not let his discovery be without an audience, so he picked up the disgruntled mokey and dropped him next to his steaming beakers filled with various colored liquids, Bunsen burners toasting cheese sandwiches to perfection.

Coco pointed to one of the steaming beakers and ooked.

“That? Ambience, Coco. Water, dry ice, and food coloring. Nobody really uses beakers like that anymore. Now come look at this!” Cord passed over the electron microscope to Bobo ̶

<><><>

“Hold up, I thought the name of your monkey was Coco?”

“What? No, that’s the name of one of my students! Coco’s a nice girl. Why would I ever name that ornery simian after her?”

“I guess I misheard.” The officer said.

“YEAH!” Affirmed his partner.

“Now as I was saying, I passed the microscope to Lolo…”

The officer groaned.

“Eeeook ook eeek?”

“What you’re looking at is a human chromosome. And with my recent advances, I’ve managed to isolate a particular gene.”

“Ook?”

“I’ve isolated the gay gene!”

Popo just stared at Cord in deadpan.

“Now, now Roro, don’t look at me like that. This actually leads me to an important discovery in itself. Remember when I collected the DNA of the student body as part of a ‘science project’? You know, the one where I tried to create the perfect student?”

The monkey rolled his eyes but nodded.

“Well Yoyo, I managed to catalogue the genome of the entire student body. And look at this!” Mr. Dis opened his laptop to reveal a bunch of graphs and numbers. “Woops, let me minimize the graphs on internet traffic to certain…sites.” He opened up a simple text document which read ‘Diagnosis: 100% gay.’

“Ta-da!” Revealed the genius. “They’re all gay! Against all odds, and none of them are acting on it. They’re so deep in the closet, they’re practically hiding inside Aslan’s asshole!”

Brobro just groaned and facepalmed.

“Hey, don’t act like that! Let’s see what you’ve accomplished. In the past few days.” He snatched the paper out of the typewriter. “What is this? Nobody’s going to enjoy this! ‘To be or not to be, that is the question.’ Hokum!”

Wowo huffed and hopped away as Mr. Dis began coming up with a plan to help free his beloved Canterlot High School students from the moldy confines of their metaphorical closets.

The students had gathered in the auditorium at the request of their principal, who was oddly absent from the school that day. Most assumed she had the flu, her voice did sound a bit low and nasally over the intercom. Once the last student had taken her seat, the lights dimmed and a mysterious figure in a tight latex suit wearing a pair of tiny white wings walked on stage, lugging about a boxy construct like one would hold a minigun. His face was obscured by a porcelain baby mask, shining in the solitary spotlight.

“Hello children!” The man exclaimed. “I am the anonymous supervillain known as Cherub.”

The audience was silent for a moment until a lone voice rang out from the crowd.

“Mr. Dis, is that you?” There was a muttering of assent from the rest of the students as Cherub reared back in shock.

“What? Preposterous! Why would I ever be the ridiculously handsome and kind Mr. Dis?”

“Because your beard is poking out from below your mask.” Another student pointed out.

“What!?” Cherub dropped his luggage and turned around to stuff his beautiful beard into the latex suit.

“Yo, Mr. Dis!” One of the boys called out. “Have you been working out? ‘Cause from an objective point of view, your butt is fantastic.”

The other guys nodded in agreement.

“In a purely aesthetic sense.”

“It does seem quite firm.”

“It is some fine booty.”

Cherub turned around with his strange object once more in his hands.

“Enough! Fear me for I wield the Gayzer!” Cherub declared.

“The what now?”

“I think he said phazer.”

“No, no, no, he definitely said mazer.”

“That’s stupid, what’s a mazer supposed to do, turn stuff into mazes? He obviously said wayzer.”

“That makes even less sense!”

“Dude, what if it’s a mazer and a wayzer at the same time? So you’d, like, find the way in the maze of your mind. Woah.”

“GAYZER!” Hollered Cherub, silencing the cacophony of students. “It’s called a gayzer.”

“So does it just gaze at stuff? It looks like the end you’re pointing at us has an eye.” One student asked.

Cherub facepalmed and took a deep breath.

“No.” He groaned. “It makes you gay.”

Silence. The students just stare awkwardly at Cherub as he stared back.

Until a pink girl began bouncing around and waving her arms in the air.

“Oh! Oh!” She called, an abnormally large smile adorning her face. “I’d like to be even happier! I can’t wait to be even happier than I am now!”

The students began speaking their agreements as they realized they could be a bit gayer in life.

“Yeah, this stress is getting to me. I wouldn’t mind being happier.”

“A machine that makes you happy? Sounds like a computer or a TV, except less mind-numbing!”

“I’d love to have gayer days!”

“Looks like this Cherub guy is more of a Cheerub!”

“You don’t understand!” Cherub called out in frustration, ceasing the chatter once more. “This laser makes you gay. Gay as in homosexual.”

Instantly, the students fell silent. A lone hand rose up nervously.

“Homosexual…as in being attracted to the same sex?”

Mr. Dis grinned under his mask as he turned the notch on the modified oil drum and flashlights from the black on white text ‘NO HOMO’ to the rainbow lettered option labelled as ‘ALL OF THE HOMO’.

“As I said…” Cherub said with glee. “This invention makes you ̶ “ Cherub pulled the trigger and unleashed a beam of rainbows onto the crowd. “ ̶Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.” He sang flamboyantly.

As the beam passed over the crowd, girls started making out with girls, guys started making out with guys, and there was even this one girls who was viciously eating tacos ̶

<><><>

“Whoa, whoa, WHOA! A girl started doing that instantly?”

“What?” Mr. Dis said. “Oh! You mean…no, not at all. Sonata just really likes tacos. No metaphors.”

“So what happened next?” The pale officer asked, leaning against the wall as his buff partner admired himself in the one-way mirror.

“Well, apparently there could only be so much gay in one place before reality starts to break down.” Mr. Dis shrugged. “I got out of there before it got too bad. That’s when I tripped and broke my mask. Luckily one student, I believe Spitfire is her name, accidentally started a fire, forcing the other students out of the Gravidimensional Antimattercollison Yttrium field before the real crazy stuff started to happen.”

“Yeah…crazy stuff.” Muttered the officer. “It still doesn’t explain why you’re covered in fruit punch.”

“Actually, that’s normal. See, a couple months ago…”

“Bundle muffins!” Cussed Mr. Dis as he looked into the empty reservoir on his left. “The school fire sprinklers are completely out of water! Stupid independent system…and this drought is going to cost the school thousands just for water! And that’s just the start of my problems!”

He turned to his right to glare at the gallons of fruit punch. “What am I going to do with all the gallons of fruit punch I impulse bought online several hundred times because of its fantastic buy-one-get-two-free deals?”

<><><>

“Stop, stop, stop.” The blue-haired officer sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can see where that went.”

“All in all, I think that went quite well.” Admitted Mr. Dis.

“YEAH!” Agreed the blond officer.

“’Quite well’?” Growled the other policeman. “The entire student body was impregnated.”

“Surely you exaggerate.” The teacher snorted.

“ALL of the students. Even the males. Even my little sister. We checked.” The officer’s eyes narrowed into slits. “And the entire interior of the school is now edible. Surely this must lead to some points against your teaching license.”

“…teaching license?”

“You do have a teaching license,” the officer placed his hands on the table and leaned towards the nervous man, “right?”

“Uh…hold on, I have it right here.” Mr. Dis stuck out a tongue as he stuck his hand down the latex suit, searching through it. “Ah! Here it is… my MINI-GAYZER!” Mr. Dis cried, pulling out a pistol and shooting the officers in the chest. After a few seconds of ineffective rainbow light being beamed on their chests, the blue-haired officer slapped the altered flashlight out of his hands and pushed him out of the room in handcuffs.

“Nice try.” The officer flashed a ring in front of Mr. Dis’ face. "But I’m a married man. Isn’t that right, Bulk?”

His partner nodded, but didn’t follow them out of the interrogation room.

“Now let’s go fill out some paperwork. My wife has some dinner waiting for me.” The officer pressed Mr. Dis forwards and out of sight from Bulk.

Once Bulk was sure he was alone, he took out his wallet and removed a carefully folded picture of his partner at the beach, surround by hearts. Where his wife used to sit by his side in the picture was a scratched out mess. Bulk trailed a forlorn finger across the picture slowly, wishing upon different circumstances.

“Yeah…” He muttered.