Week 013: Substitute Teacher [Catch Me If You Can] 

Week 001: Dawn [Made in Abyss]

Week 002: Akagi [Midway (2019)]

Week 003: Izumi's DIY [Araburu Kisetsu no Otome-domo yo]

Week 004: StuCo Relay Race [Bloom Into You]

Week 005: Club Rampage [John Wick]

Week 006: Conversation with Being X [Youjo Senki]

Week 007: Nanashi vs. Lou Lang Final Duel [Sword of the Stranger]

Week 008: Tyrion's Closing Statement [Game of Thrones]

Week 009: Hibiki's First Transformation [Senki Zeshhou Symphogear]

Week 010: Docking [Interstellar]

Week 011: Crossing the Lake on Leaves [Violet Evergarden]

Week 012: My Little Shark Can't Be This Stupid [HoloLive EN]

Week 014: Darth Myne the Studious [Ascendance of a Bookworm]

&#x3C;p&#x3E;&#x3C;a href=&#x22;https://youtu.be/ppunAo8ckBc&#x22; rel=&#x22;noopener noreferrer&#x22; target=&#x22;_blank&#x22;&#x3E;Link&#x3C;/a&#x3E;&#x3C;/p&#x3E;&#x3C;p&#x3E;The atmosphere was certainty a change from the calm, orderly decorum of a private school. The students here dressed in a myriad of colors and clothes instead of a strict uniform. They flooded the hallways, occasionally gathering in conversational groups to clog the already narrow corridors. I was completely out of place, dressed with a tie and blazer, struggling through the current of bodies.&#x3C;/p&#x3E;&#x3C;p&#x3E;Eventually, I gave up looking for the tiny, obstructed plaques that labelled each room and approached a nice-looking girl fixing her makeup at her locker.&#x3C;/p&#x3E;&#x3C;p&#x3E;&#x22;Excuse me,&#x22; I asked, flashing a kind smile. &#x22;Do you know where room 17, French is?&#x22;&#x3C;/p&#x3E;&#x3C;p&#x3E;&#x22;Yeah!&#x22; she beamed back. &#x22;It&#x27;s right over-&#x22;&#x3C;/p&#x3E;&#x3C;p&#x3E;&#x3C;em&#x3E;Bam!&#x3C;/em&#x3E; A shove from behind slammed me into the row of lockers. I turned to see a smug jock clad in the school&#x27;s varsity jacket. His glasses-wearing lackey snickered as they passed, giving him a congratulatory shake. I glared at their backs as they disappeared around the corner.&#x3C;/p&#x3E;&#x3C;p&#x3E;The girl gave me a sympathetic look as she helped me pick up my books and gave me the directions I initially asked for.&#x3C;/p&#x3E;&#x3C;p&#x3E;A few turns later, I arrived at the classroom just in time for the bell to ring. Yet, rather than take their seats, my fellow classmates ignored the bell and continued to converse in groups. Some even stood on their desks, playing monkey-in-the-middle with a girl&#x27;s notebook.&#x3C;/p&#x3E;&#x3C;p&#x3E;&#x22;You selling encyclopedias?&#x22; The snarky voice belonged to the glasses-wearing smart aleck, still trailing the jock who pushed me earlier.&#x3C;/p&#x3E;&#x3C;p&#x3E;The jock gave my former school&#x27;s uniform a top-down lookover. &#x22;Yeah, he looks like the substitute teacher.&#x22;&#x3C;/p&#x3E;&#x3C;p&#x3E;The move into the new apartment was inconvenient, but nothing worth complaining about. The downgrade to the local public school, again, was nothing I couldn&#x27;t handle. Mom and Dad had enough problems to deal with at the moment. I wasn&#x27;t selfish enough to add to their burdens.&#x3C;/p&#x3E;&#x3C;p&#x3E;But as that jock&#x27;s lips curled into a dumb, mocking grin, I felt something snap. Who the hell did he think he was? What the hell did I do to offend him? Somebody... had to each these idiots some manners. And as I glanced around the teacher-less classroom, a thought dawned on me. If nobody&#x27;s gonna do it, then... What did he say? The substitute teacher?&#x3C;/p&#x3E;&#x3C;p&#x3E;I straightened my back and approached the blackboard with a mask of seriousness. &#x22;Quiet down, people!&#x22; I bellowed as I scribed my name on the board, underscoring it with a line. &#x22;My name is Mr. Abagnale! That&#x27;s Abagnale, not Abagnolee, not Abagnalee, but Abagnale!&#x22;&#x3C;/p&#x3E;&#x3C;p&#x3E;When I turned to look at the class, I noted with satisfaction that the jock&#x27;s face paled. He refused to meet my eyes, pretending to busy himself by organizing his desk. Setting my bag on the teacher&#x27;s desk, I took out my own copy of the textbook. &#x22;Now somebody, please tell me where you left off in your textbooks!&#x22;&#x3C;/p&#x3E;&#x3C;p&#x3E;While the jock&#x27;s underdeveloped brain may have bought my act, the rest of the class stood awkwardly, doubt apparent on their faces. The lackey, in particular, narrowed his eyes in suspicion. They still needed a little push.&#x3C;/p&#x3E;&#x3C;p&#x3E;&#x22;Excuse me, people. If I need to ask again, I&#x27;m gonna write up the entire class! Take. Your. Seats!&#x22; The tiny classroom emphasized my command with a sharp echo.&#x3C;/p&#x3E;&#x3C;p&#x3E;Like a chain of dominoes, once one moved, the rest fell in line. There was a flurry of activity as the class all took their seats. Their fear erased any doubt of my authority. Once settled a girl answered my initial question. &#x22;Chapter Seven.&#x22;&#x3C;/p&#x3E;&#x3C;p&#x3E;Ordering the class to turn to Chapter Eight, I approached the jock who conveniently sat at the front of the classroom. &#x22;Excuse me, what&#x27;s you name?&#x22;&#x3C;/p&#x3E;&#x3C;p&#x3E;&#x22;...Brad.&#x22;&#x3C;/p&#x3E;&#x3C;p&#x3E;The pathetic quiver in his voice filled me with glee. Being careful not to let my sadistic smile spill onto my face, I grabbed him by the arm and dragged him up in front of the class. &#x22;Brad, why don&#x27;t you get up here, and read conversation number five?&#x22;&#x3C;/p&#x3E;&#x3C;p&#x3E;His butchering of the French language earned him a flurry of giggles from the class. As his face burned in embarrassment, I stood right beside him, ensuring that he wouldn&#x27;t dare stop.&#x3C;/p&#x3E;&#x3C;p&#x3E;But not five lines in, a little old lady ambled through the door. With confusion in her eyes, she spoke, &#x22;They sent for me. They said they needed a sub for Roberta. I came all the way from Dixon!&#x22; A dash of indignation colored her final sentence.&#x3C;/p&#x3E;&#x3C;p&#x3E;Adopting a confused, but steady tone, I calmly informed, &#x22;Well... I always sub for Roberta.&#x22; Noticing that the class and Brad fell silent and were focused on our exchange, I redirected the attention back to Brad. &#x22;Excuse me, why aren&#x27;t you reading?&#x22;&#x3C;/p&#x3E;&#x3C;p&#x3E;Turning back to the lady, I offered her a shrug and an apologetic smile, sending her into a tirade of complaints and derision against the school. She exited while swearing, but the class drowned out her expletives with another round of laughter at Brad&#x27;s sorry excuse for French.&#x3C;/p&#x3E;&#x3C;p&#x3E;Inwardly, I apologized to the substitute. It wasn&#x27;t her fault that she arrived at the wrong place at the wrong time. Perhaps I&#x27;ll have Brad write her a letter of apology. In French, of course. But as Brad continued to stutter his way through the reading, I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind. Right now, I had a lesson to teach.&#x3C;/p&#x3E;

&lt;p&gt;Hello.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm LaconicKibitz, author and editor for TEK Studios. We've worked on some of the most popular stories on VoyceMe such as God Game, DevilUp, and Thrash. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Every Monday at 6:00 PM EST on the VoyceMe Discord, I host an adaptation workshop. I give out a scene the week prior, have people attempt to adapt it in that seven days, and then have a Harkness-style discussion on what people have written. These are the examples I have written. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;If this interests you, feel free to join us!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And if you require any editing or proofreading work, please come find us at TEK Studios!&lt;br&gt;&lt;/p&gt;

TEK Studios Adaptation Workshop Collection