The most mysterious teacher

Today, when my friend and I came to school together, our classmate came up to us: — Girls, I have news for you! — I hope it’s a good one? — my friend asked. — I don’t even know, — the classmate replied. — So, what’s the news, Olivia? — I couldn’t stand it, I asked a classmate. — We have a new technical drawing teacher now! Olivia replied. — I hope it’s a good one? — the friend asked. Olivia shrugged her shoulders. —I see, — I said. We were about to go to our class, when suddenly a friend shuddered: — Girls! We turned around and asked: — What? — I didn’t do my technical drawing homework! I patted my friend comfortingly on the shoulder and said: — Don’t worry, Jane. Maybe the teacher will feel sorry for you and won’t give you a deuce. — And if not? — We’ll wait and see. And we went to our class. After we had done math, English and geography, we started to worry, because the next lesson was drawing. All the students were intrigued: — I wonder if he is kind? — It depends on what your understanding of the meaning of this word is. — Well, so that he gets good grades and doesn’t ask a lot of homework. — Oh, well, then it’s unlikely. — Do you think so? Suddenly our headman burst into the classroom and said: — I found out that our drawing teacher’s name is Theodore Masters Peterson and he is very strict and serious. — Is he stricter than a physics teacher? — Olivia asked. — Much stricter, — replied the headman. —Oh, shit, — Jane whispered. —Oh, don’t worry, — I replied. — How do you know all this? — one of the classmates asked the headman. — The guys from 7B told me. They already had a drawing lesson. — I’m going to investigate, — said Emma, the bravest student in our class, and headed for the exit. A couple of minutes later she came back and my classmates and I asked her: — Well, how? Have you seen our technical drawing teacher? — Yeah, I have. It’s not far from our classroom, — Emma replied. Jane and I looked out of the classroom and saw our drawing teacher. He was a tall, strong man, about 40-45 years old. He had slightly tarnished green eyes, brown hair and a bushy mustache. He was dressed in a white shirt with rolled-up sleeves, collar and tie, a dark blue, checkered sleeveless vest with a diamond pattern, black jeans and black sneakers. He was wearing black leather gloves on his hands. He was holding a class magazine in his hands and talking to a biology teacher. Mr. Peterson looked rather intimidating. — Well, what? — classmates asked us when we returned. — Pretty creepy, — Jane replied. Soon the bell rang and we sat down. Our homeroom teacher and drawing teacher entered the classroom. The homeroom teacher said: — Guys, say hello. This is your new drawing teacher, Theodore Masters Peterson. We said hello and listened further. The homeroom teacher left and Mr. Peterson continued: — Hello, guys. Today we will write down the rules that in no case should be violated in my lesson. Mr. Peterson sat down at the teacher’s desk and looked at us sternly: — I will dictate quickly, so be careful. We took out our notebooks and began to write. — For the first time, no phones. I’ll note — two in the magazine! Emma, who was on the phone at the time, quickly tried to stuff it into her backpack, but accidentally dropped it. Noticing the phone, Mr. Peterson shouted: — Two in the magazine! — Secondly, — the teacher continued, — in my lesson it is forbidden to write off on control, to communicate… Every second he dictated faster, faster and faster. — It is forbidden to sleep in class… — It is forbidden to sleep in class… — writing down, I repeated in a whisper so as not to forget. — In class, you need to listen to the teacher… — In class, you need to… What is needed? Damn it… lost my way! — Observe discipline and order… — Observe… — And also be attentive and… — A-a-a-a-a! — I cried in a whisper. — What are you all muttering to yourself, miss? — the teacher finally asked me. —Nothing, sir. I’m sorry, — I muttered, trying to remember the last sentences. At the end of the lesson, there were at least seventy rules and they occupied at least five sheets in my notebook (given the fact that I didn’t have time to write everything down). And when there were no more than four minutes left until the end of the lesson, Jane was ready to breathe a sigh of relief that the teacher had not checked the homework, when suddenly Mr. Peterson said: — So, guys, now we hand over the homework assigned for this lesson! Jane turned pale. Classmates, including me, trooped up to the teacher’s desk and took turns handing over their homework. Only Jane remained in her place. Mr. Peterson looked inquiringly at Jane and asked: — You didn’t do your homework? Jane shook her head. — Two in the magazine! When it was my turn and I was about to put my notebook with the finished homework on the teacher’s desk, when suddenly…