CHAP. 5

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   "A man's not very tired. He is exhausted. And don't use 'very sad'. Use-." Mr. Keating snaps and points to Knox. "Come on, Mr. Overstreet, you twerp." "Morose?"

   "Exactly! Morose." He starts wandering the room. "Now, language was developed for one endeavor, and that is...Mr. Anderson." Todd looks around him, remaining silent. "Come on, are you a man or an amoeba?" Mr. Keating makes his way to Todd's desk as he looks up at his teacher. After a few moments with no response, Mr. Keating moves on. "Mr. Perry."

"-Uh...to communicate."

"No! To woo women."

    Neil takes a look at (Y/n) as Mr. Keating passes, to see her laughing along with the boys in the room. "Today we're gonna talk about William Shakespeare." (Y/n) snickers at the boys' groans as she walks around the desk, sitting on its edge.

"I know, a lot of you look forward to this about as much as you look forward to root-canal work. We're gonna talk about Shakespeare as someone who writes something very interesting."

   "Now, many of you have seen Shakespeare done very much like this-" Mr. Keating alters his voice into a nasaly British accent. "O Titus, bring your friend Hither."

   "But if any of you have seen Mr. Marlon Brando-" He imitates Brando. "You know, Shakespeare can be different. Friends, Romans, countrymen...lend me your ears." Everyone laughs. "You can also imagine, maybe, John Wayne as Macbeth going, 'Well, is this a dagger I see before me?'"

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   The boys and (Y/n) sit on desks facing Mr. Keating as he continues his lesson on Shakespeare, sporting many hilarious impressions. This earns him the attention and laughter of his students and daughter.

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   "Do you mind standing over there for a moment, (N/n)?" (Y/n) gets up from her father's chair and goes to stand by the window. Mr. Keating steps onto his chair, then from there, onto his desk. "Why do I stand up here? Anybody?"

   "To feel taller."

   "No!" Mr. Keating dings a bell on his desk with his foot. "Thank you for playing, Mr. Dalton." The class laughs. "I stand upon my desk to remind myself that we must constantly look at things in a different way." He turns in a full circle, looking around the room. "You see, the world looks very different from it here…You don't believe me? Come see for yourselves. Come on."

   The boys make their way to Mr. Keating's desk. "Just when you think you know something, you have to look at it in another way. Even though it may seem silly or wrong, " He jumps from his desk as Neil and Charlie take his place. "-you must try." They jump down, making room for the other boys.

   "Now, when you read, don't just consider what the author thinks. Consider what you think…Boys you must strive to find your own voice." Mr. Keating motions for (Y/n) to join. He helps her onto the desk next. She looks down to see Charlie looking up at her with a smirk. "I swear, Dalton. If you look up my skirt, I will break your face faster than you can say 'merry Christmas'," she whispers just loud enough for him to hear as he takes her hand, helping her down. He laughs. "Yes, ma'am!" He turns to Neil, raising his eyebrows.

   "Thoreau said, 'Most men lead lives of quiet desperation.' Don't be resigned to that. Break out. Don't just walk off the edge like Lemmings. Look around you." The bell rings. "Dare to strike out and find new ground. Now, in addition to your essays, I would like you to compose a poem of your own, an original work." The boys groan. Mr. Keating flicks the lights on and off while singing loudly, drowning out the boys' complaints. "LA HA HA HA HAN!" 

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