Work Text:
“Alright, madam,” William Afton started saying with a mostly faded British accent while doing at least mildly dramatic gestures, “I hope you have a really good reason for your school to call me over. Because, I’ll have you know, I would much rather jam forks into my eyeballs than be here: at my own child’s parent-teacher conference.”
Ms. Park, Elizabeth’s second grade teacher, was sitting behind her desk facing William. She adjusted her glasses before responding with a polite tone:
“Right. Mr. Afton, I’m sure you know about how Elizabeth’s class had recently been given an assignment to write a paper on the topic of their personal hero.”
The teacher looked towards Elizabeth, who was seated behind the school bench right next to her father. She had a bright smile and swung her legs back and forth, clearly not caring for her father’s dismissive tone and body language.
“No. Why would I know that?”
“Well, I feel like you probably should. For you see, most children chose to write about a parent, a grandparent, some chose superheroes and one even chose their pet snake. However, Elizabeth had chosen to write about, and I quote,” she reached for a piece of paper next to her that was the girl’s assignment in question and started to cite a very certain line written there, concern being clear from her tone, “My daddy’s crack dealer Sweaty Bob.”
Upon hearing that, Afton immediately bursted into laughter, with Elizabeth soon joining in. Ms. Park looked at this scene in a mixture of shock and worry. This continued on for half a minute or so.
“Oh my god,” William continued laughing while looking at his daughter, “Really good choice, Liz!”
Once the two’s mutual amusement had subsided a little, the teacher coughed in her fist as a sign to bring back their attention.
“Mr. Afton,” she started while trying her damn hardest to maintain a professional tone, “are you really not at least a little concerned with how your daughter sees someone with that kind of profession as her personal hero?”
“Why not? He’s my hero too!” Afton exclaimed and started counting the reasons to why using his fingers, “Runs his own business, product’s in high demand, and what a fantastic product it is, rakes in the cash and is very blessed in the pants department. I won’t tell you how I know this…”
He gave the teacher a sly wink, whatever the hell that meant.
“Love that Sweaty Bob!” Elizabeth chimed in.
“Love. Him,” William nodded towards his daughter approvingly.
“Right, but-” the teacher started to interject.
“Are we done yet?” William got up from his seat and took his coat, still quite amused over this whole situation, “Because I think it’s pretty obvious that I’ve learned absolutely nothing from this interaction.”
“Come along, Lizzy!” he called to his child as he made his way towards the classroom door.
“Yay!” the little girl exclaimed as she took her things and ran after her father.
The teacher just stared at these two with a blank expression until she heard the door shut behind them.
A few seconds later she looked down at her table in defeat.
“I don’t get paid enough…”