Scene: Classroom. Pies have settled in their seats, and Mrs. Applepie is busy scribbling on the board. She turns.

Mrs. Applepie: Alright class, settle down.

The students look at each other. None have spoken in the last minute. Mrs. Applepie is obviously agitated.

Mrs. Applepie: Right, off we go then.

Now the class knows something is wrong. She almost never speaks with a British accent unless she’s mocking a culture’s pretentious and unseemly ways. She steps to the left, revealing to the class what she has written on the board. EVOLUTION.

Mrs. Applepie: Evolution.

As the members of the class mouth to themselves, “Evolution.” Well, most of them. As usual, Pumpkin decides to chime in.

Pumpkin: Mrs. Applepie, my parents say that evolution is a lie.

Mrs. Applepie: That’s very good Pumpkin, but today-

Pumpkin: Mrs. Applepie, my parents say that Steve the Baker made me, and anyone who doesn’t think so is going to Hell.

To pies, Hell is being eaten by a fat guy, cursed to wander his digestive system forever, fully impacted, never to find the holy Sewer.

Mrs. Applepie: That might be true, Pumpkin, but have you ever wondered why all pies are different?

Pumpkin: Is it because Steve the Baker wants them to be?

Peach: I’m a princess!

Mrs. Applepie: That’s nice, Peach. But for a second, lets use our crazy imaginations. Lets assume that every pie is made by a different baker. And depending on the baker, you might be made out of different ingredients, or have a flakier crust, or not be completely cooked all the way.

Halfbaked: Like me!

Mrs. Applepie: Yes, like you. And that’s how ever pie comes out differently. But you have to remember kids, not every pie is as delicious as the other pies. Some pies will be taken by good families, while others will sit on the shelf for months, and then be placed on the discount rack.

The students gasp. The discount rack is the fastest way to hell.

Mrs. Applepie: But there’s good news. Bakers whose pies don’t sell will go out of business and die, which means good pies and their bakers can live on, and the next generation of pies might be even more delicious than before. So you see, we use bakers in order to make more of ourselves, and if there’s a bad baker, capitalism takes care of him.

The class pauses, deep in thought over the information they have just received. It is Pumpkin who breaks the silence.

Pumpkin: Mrs. Applepie, you don’t really believe that, do you?

Mrs. Applepie: Of course not! Now lets all bow our heads and say a prayer to Steve the Baker.

Rhubarb: In a public school?

Mrs. Applepie: Satan!

End scene.