Sacking The French Teacher

Oh no. Nothing could have been worse.
I know everyone has to agree with this. French class is the worst and everyone at my school doesn’t want to be the one that is stuck with Mr. Hipster. He is so strict on when we finish our essays. My last essay was already 3 weeks late and now I had spilled my orange juice all over it. I was going to get in so much trouble.
It was only three weeks until school ended and we had to do a 5 A4 page French essay on why we like Christmas. I probably repeated half the paragraphs but, Mr. Hipster is German so he can’t read French and we normally all get ‘d’s if we aren’t careful.
My best friend Olivia and I were peeking in at Mr. Hipster through the window and we saw him look at the work then give it a tick and go to the next on.
“there is no point even doing these, we could write a page in English if we wanted to and he would think it’s a normal essay” says Olivia disgusted.
“He just thinks that we assume he marks them how all the others teachers do. But, now we know the truth.” I said agreeing.
“How about we go and give a chat to Mrs. Jingles. She’ll know what to do. She might even sack him as she is the Head of school” Olivia asked excitedly. I agreed. Mr. Hipster wasn’t standing a chance for what our parents were paying for the lessons at Hartville Secondary School.
While we were walking to Mrs. Jingles office, we noticed a new student having trouble with her homework.
“Look” I said. “Is that one of the new Year 7 student. We had better help her”
“Nah” said Olivia walking off.
“Liv, don’t you remember when you were stuck with homework in year 7 and two Year 9 girls came and helped you. It’s like that again, but, now we are the Year 9 girls” I said maybe to snappy.
“Yeah, good point Frankie”
We walked over to the girl and noticed she was doing a French essay. We asked what teacher she had, Mr Hipster or Mrs Pablo.
“My teacher is Mr Hipster” she said shyly.
“Great how about you come along with us to Mrs Jingles, we are going to sack Mr Hipster, want to help us?”
I thought for a minute. Maybe I said a little too positive. “Sorry you don’t have to come with us if you don’t want to” I said sheepishly.
“Don’t worry I want to come. I haven’t talked the Mrs Jingles properly yet and Mr Hipster deserves to be sacked. How did he get the job?”
“I don’t know come on Frankie well talk about it later lets go breaks almost done” said Olivia impatiently.
As we walked to Mrs Jingles door. We noticed Mr Hipster packing his bag.
After a while Mr Hipster died in the pool.


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