Everything has an origin story. Including the trash can over there or the blades of grass at your feet. Speaking of the trash can… It came from many, many years ago. Way back when the Roman army was defeated. Scratches cover the barrel as reminders of the tremendous wounds that used to cover its natural shine. Dents are tributes of the many sword swings that spared their true victims. Now it sits there, basking in its thoughts of the history it lived through. 

Day by day, trash enters his mouth and falls down to his stomach. Opening a latch removes the collected material to be brought to some far away land. Oh how much the trash can longs to be brought to the mound with its waste. Hundreds of years sitting in the same place doing nothing has caused him to imagine those far away places. Longing fills him more than the trash itself, waiting for the day he can finally rest. 

A bell rings and students come pouring from doors that are slammed into the walls behind them. Thousands of voices fill the air. As they pass, papers stuff his barrel and he can tell they’re tests. Nothing’s more hated than the disdainful sheets.

As normal, the garbage truck drives by, emptying the trash can’s belly. It sighs when it leaves again, leaving him empty once more. The sun bakes the rusted metal to boiling point. A human throws their paper cup, it bounces off the rim. A loud rumbling comes from far off. Thundering down the lane comes a foreign shape. It grows larger and larger the closer it comes. Soon a huge truck bears down on the small trash can. Brakes squeal as the vehicle struggles to stop. Doors open and two people step out. One carries nothing, the other holds a brand new garbage can.

Gloved hands lift the ancient trash can, moving it for the first time in a millennium. Suddenly, the barrel flies and lands in a heap of trash. The can seems to sink down into the pile in satisfaction. It sighs in relief, finally able to rest after its long, adventurous life.

Left behind is a single sheet of paper, drifting aimlessly alone. Wind picks it up and it floats higher in the sky. A flash of red reveals its true purpose. It is not as innocent as it may seem. On the front of the paper is a large F, written harshly with malice. It’s not surprising. This student had probably never had Testing as a teacher. But I’m sure you’ve never heard the history of the first test and the man who made them. 

It goes way back to the man named Michael Testing. He was the meanest teacher that everyone, even the nerds, hated. I don’t mean just hate, though. They loathed him. His cousin, Jimmy Homework, had mentored him in the true art of making children’s lives miserable. The pages long assignments that got sent home each day were made purely for the students to suffer as they had made him agonize over their disrespect. 

The blood, sweat, and tears that their classes distributed was suicidal as they worked for their lives. Because they all knew what would happen if they stopped. 

Lord Testing, as they called him, set the school hours for the kids to wake at five o'clock each morning. Class ran through the next seven hours of the day with a new class of torment every hour. 

On a sunny day that mocked his students, he finally handed out a rare sheet of paper to his class. Awe filled their eyes but that would soon be gone, based on what he had in store for them. Lord Testing rubbed his hands together and a sly grin lit up his lean face. He almost looked like the grinch you see in movies now. In fact, that’s where the idea for the Grinch’s expression came from.

The kids attempted the test, nearly all of them failing though they all laughed about their grades. Testing was so offended, he snapped. His hands slammed onto the desk in front of him, cracking the wood. 

Silently he got up, creeping around the edges of the room while white, frozen faces stared at him. Wide eyes, sunken in their sockets and ringed with dark circles from lack of sleep. Just the way they deserved to be. He thought, quite wickedly. 

His voice rang loud and clear as he yelled at them to do better and stop wasting his time. After that, there had never been better scores in a class than the students in there. 

Lord Testing later went on to win the ‘most ingenious teacher of the century’ award. He landed himself in prison a few years later for unnecessarily terrorizing students, but his techniques are still used today, as I’m sure you’ve seen with many, many of your teachers. Rumer is, his spirit comes back to temporarily possess a teacher leading to perfect scores across the board, once again.