Ethan stood back, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. His fingers were stained with grease and oil, and the smell of burnt metal hung in the air. Before him stood the machine gun turret he'd been working on for weeks—a fully automated, remote-controlled beast of a weapon. It was sleek, deadly, and, for the first time since he'd started building it, Ethan wasn't afraid of what it represented.
He was proud.
The turret stood tall, its sensors gleaming in the dim light of the workshop. It was mounted on a swivel base, able to turn in a full circle, tracking any threat that came within its range. Ethan had worked out every kink, every glitch, and now the damn thing was ready to defend Banff against whatever was stupid enough to come at them.
Dorrik, the blacksmith who'd helped him along the way, gave a low whistle as he walked up, his arms crossed over his broad chest. "Not bad, kid. Not bad at all."
Ethan grinned, a sense of satisfaction swelling in his chest. "Thanks. It took some time, but I think we've got it right."
Dorrik nodded, stepping closer to inspect the turret. "You've come a long way from that nervous wreck who didn't want to build 'killing machines.'"
Ethan chuckled, remembering the hesitation he'd felt when he first started. The guilt. The doubt. But now? That was all behind him. "Yeah, well, things change. People change."
Dorrik gave him a knowing look, his gruff voice taking on a lighter tone. "Ain't that the truth? So, you proud of it?"
Ethan nodded, running a hand along the sleek metal of the turret. "Hell yeah, I am. Look at this thing. It's a goddamn masterpiece."
Dorrik smirked, clearly impressed by Ethan's newfound confidence. "That's more like it. You finally get it. This isn't just about building weapons—it's about building defenses. Keeping people safe."
"Exactly," Ethan said, standing a little taller. "This thing is going to stop raiders, zombies, whatever the fuck comes our way. And it's gonna do it without anyone having to lift a finger. I built something that's going to protect people. And that's something I can be proud of."
Dorrik clapped him on the shoulder, his massive hand almost knocking Ethan off balance. "Damn right. You should be proud. Not everyone's got the brains to pull something like this off."
Ethan grinned, looking up at the turret with a sense of accomplishment. "You know, when I started, I didn't think I could do it. I kept thinking about what it would mean—building something that could kill. But now... now I realize it's not about that. It's about making sure the people I care about are safe."
Dorrik nodded, his usual gruff demeanor softening just a bit. "That's the spirit. You build what needs to be built, and you don't look back. You're doing your part."
Ethan glanced at the control panel, feeling a surge of pride as he imagined the turret in action. "This thing's going to save lives. That's all that matters."
Dorrik let out a deep chuckle. "You're damn right it will. And when those raiders or zombies try to fuck with us, they're gonna get a nice little surprise."
Ethan laughed, the tension he'd once felt now replaced with a sense of confidence. "Yeah. I'd love to see the look on their faces when this thing starts firing."
Dorrik raised an eyebrow. "You sure you don't want to be the one pulling the trigger?"
"Nah," Ethan said, shaking his head. "I've done my part. Now it's time to let the turret do its job."
Dorrik nodded approvingly. "Smart move. This thing's going to make a hell of a difference. Banff's lucky to have you."
Ethan felt a surge of pride at the compliment. "Thanks, Dorrik. Couldn't have done it without your help."
Dorrik grunted, brushing off the praise with a wave of his hand. "You did the hard part, kid. I just made sure you didn't blow anything up in the process."
Ethan laughed again, feeling lighter than he had in weeks. The turret was finished, and with it, the weight of doubt that had been dragging him down was gone. He had built something that mattered—something that would protect the people he cared about. And he wasn't afraid of it anymore.
As they stood there, admiring the turret, Ethan couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment he hadn't felt in a long time. This was more than just a machine. It was a symbol of everything they were fighting for—security, safety, survival.
"I think we're ready to mount it," Ethan said, glancing at Dorrik. "Let's get this thing up on the wall."
Dorrik nodded, a grin spreading across his face. "Let's do it."
They worked together, lifting the turret onto a cart and wheeling it out toward the town's outer wall. The sun was setting, casting long shadows over Banff, but the air was filled with a sense of anticipation. People were on edge—raider attacks had been getting more frequent, and they all knew it was only a matter of time before the next one came.
As they reached the wall, a few of the townsfolk gathered around, watching as Ethan and Dorrik set the turret into place. Ethan could feel their eyes on him, the weight of their expectations, but this time, it didn't feel like pressure. It felt like pride.
He glanced over at Greg, one of the patrolmen who had been keeping the town safe during the raids. Greg nodded at him, a look of approval in his eyes. "Nice work, Ethan. This thing's gonna be a game-changer."
Ethan grinned, wiping his hands on his pants. "That's the plan."
As the final bolts were secured, Ethan stepped back, admiring the turret in its new home. It was ready. He was ready.
"Alright," Dorrik said, patting the side of the turret. "Let's see what she can do."
Ethan flipped the switch on the control panel, and the turret whirred to life, its sensors scanning the perimeter. The sound was mechanical, powerful, a reminder that they were ready for whatever came their way.
The townsfolk murmured in approval, and Ethan felt a surge of pride swell in his chest. This was his work. His contribution to their survival. And for the first time in a long time, he wasn't afraid of what he'd built.
He was proud of it.
***
Liza stood at the front of the classroom, trying to keep her cool. Her long black hair was tied up in its usual ponytail, and she wore her typical tomboy outfit—jeans and a loose hoodie. She fiddled nervously with the chalk in her hand, eyes darting over the group of wide-eyed elementary school students staring up at her. Today was the day she'd been dreading for weeks: the day she had to teach human reproduction.
She took a deep breath, reminding herself to stay professional. No swearing, she thought, biting back the natural urge to let out a string of curse words. And definitely no lewd jokes. Keep it clean, Liza. You can do this.
"Okay, class," Liza began, her voice steady but with a hint of tension, "today we're going to talk about, uh... human reproduction."
A few giggles erupted from the back of the classroom, and Liza felt her face flush. God, I was just like them when I was a kid, she thought. But seriously, keep it together.
Yan-Hua, the other teacher, was standing in the back of the room, her arms crossed and a calm expression on her face. She'd already warned Liza—no swearing, no funny business. Liza gave her a quick glance, and Yan-Hua raised an eyebrow, as if to say, Don't screw this up.
Liza cleared her throat. "So, uh, human reproduction is how, uh, babies are made."
More giggles. A kid in the front row, Jake—named after the main character of a certain anime, no doubt—raised his hand. "Miss Liza, how exactly do babies get made?"
Liza swallowed, feeling the familiar urge to crack a joke rise up. She could feel the dirty humor bubbling inside her like it always did when things got awkward. But she pushed it down, hard.
"Well, Jake," she said, forcing a smile, "it's a biological process that involves a man and a woman. The man's sperm meets the woman's egg, and when that happens, a baby starts to grow."
More snickers from the back. Keep it together, Liza.
"So," she continued, "let's start with the basics. A woman has ovaries, and these ovaries release eggs. Once a month, one of these eggs travels down the fallopian tube, and if it meets sperm, which comes from the man, it can turn into a zygote, which eventually grows into a baby."
Liza paused, waiting for the inevitable barrage of questions. Sure enough, a hand shot up from one of the older boys in the back. "So... how does the sperm get there?"
Liza blinked, trying to suppress a grin. Don't say anything dirty, Liza. Don't do it.
She glanced over at Yan-Hua again. The other teacher was watching her closely, like a hawk. Fk, why did I get the biology lesson today?
"Um, well, that's called fertilization," Liza said carefully, choosing her words with precision. "When a man and a woman, uh, come together, the sperm can enter the woman's body and meet the egg. That's the short version."
"How do they come together?" another student piped up, more giggles following the question.
Liza bit her lip, hard. Come on, guys. Really?
"Okay," she said, holding up a hand. "Let's not get too ahead of ourselves. The important thing is that when the sperm meets the egg, fertilization happens, and that's how a baby starts to grow."
She could feel the tension in the room building. Every kid was sitting on the edge of their seat, waiting for her to slip up, to crack, to say something inappropriate. And for once in her life, Liza was determined not to give in to the urge.
"Now, let's talk about the different stages of development," Liza continued, moving quickly to safer ground. "After fertilization, the zygote travels down the fallopian tube and attaches to the lining of the uterus. That's where it starts to grow into an embryo, and later, a fetus."
A girl in the front row raised her hand. "Miss Liza, my mom said the baby gets food from the mom. Is that true?"
Liza smiled, grateful for the innocent question. "Yep, that's right. The baby gets its nutrients from the mother through something called the placenta, which is connected to the baby by the umbilical cord. That's how the baby grows and gets everything it needs."
The kids seemed to relax a little at that explanation. They were still curious, still giggling here and there, but the toughest part was over. Liza could feel the relief wash over her. She hadn't sworn, she hadn't made any inappropriate jokes, and she hadn't completely embarrassed herself in front of Yan-Hua.
But of course, the moment wasn't over yet. One of the younger boys in the back, eyes wide with curiosity, raised his hand.
"So... if a baby comes from an egg, does that mean we're like chickens?"
Liza almost choked on her laughter but managed to hold it back. Chickens, really?
"No, we're not like chickens," Liza said, barely keeping her voice steady. "Humans give birth to live babies, while chickens lay eggs. Different animals have different ways of reproducing."
"But you said there's an egg," the boy persisted.
Liza smiled, amused but still keeping it professional. "Yes, but it's not the same kind of egg. In humans, the egg stays inside the mother's body and grows into a baby."
"That's weird," the boy mumbled, sitting back in his chair.
Liza finally allowed herself to laugh, just a little. "Yeah, it is weird. But it's how nature works."
As the class wound down, Liza felt a sense of accomplishment. She had made it through the lesson without losing her cool, without swearing, and without making a single lewd joke. It was a miracle.
"Alright, class," she said, clapping her hands together. "That's all for today. We'll continue learning about human biology next time, but if you have any questions, feel free to ask."
One last hand shot up. "What happens if the egg doesn't get fertilized?"
Liza smirked, knowing exactly where this was going. "If the egg doesn't get fertilized, the body gets rid of it, and that's called a period."
The boys in the class made faces, and a chorus of "ewws" filled the room. Liza couldn't help but chuckle. "Yep, that's how it works, folks. Biology can be gross sometimes, but it's important to learn."
As the bell rang, signaling the end of the lesson, Liza let out a long sigh of relief. She had done it. No swearing, no dirty jokes. She glanced over at Yan-Hua, who gave her a small nod of approval.
Liza shot her a cheeky grin. "Told you I could keep it clean."
Yan-Hua raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything as the kids filed out of the classroom.
As Liza packed up her things, she couldn't help but feel a small sense of pride. She'd handled herself well, even with all the tempting moments to crack a joke or let loose a swear. Maybe this teaching thing wasn't so bad after all.
Q: What is your favorite school subject?