School of Fear by Gitty Daneshvari

Shortly after placing the plates in front of Mrs. Wellington and the children, he pulled out Macaroni’s chair. The dog leaped
     with astounding agility, especially considering his tremendous girth. Once seated atop the chair, Macaroni devoured his kibble,
     spraying droplets of drool over a three-foot radius.
    “Not to be impolite, Mrs. Wellington, but does Macaroni always dine at the table?” Madeleine asked meekly.
    “Yes, of course. Why ever would you ask such a thing?” Mrs. Wellington screeched, clearly conveying her deep offense.
    “I think she meant that dogs usually eat on the floor, since they’re dogs,” Theo blurted out.
    “And?” Mrs. Wellington asked incredulously.
    “Dogs are dumb. They don’t mind eating off the floor,” Garrison explained.
    “Garrison, you yourself seem a bit, how should I say, slow. Perhaps you would like to take your food on the floor,” Mrs. Wellington
     said with bloodred lips.
    “Look, lady, just ’cause I’m big and good at sports doesn’t mean I’m dumb. I’m at least as smart as these wimps,” Garrison
     responded boorishly.
    “Did you just call your classmates wimps, Garrison?”
    “Yes, but I didn’t mean it. It just slipped out… .”
    “Young man, I know quite a few wimps, as you put it, who know how to swim. If you continue with such language, I will get
     you a waterbed. Or perhaps just drop your bed in water with you strapped to it,” Mrs. Wellington said with dark cherry-colored
     lips.
    Theo ignored Mrs. Wellington’s threat as he thrust the sandwich into his mouth. The young boy’s eyes immediately crossed with
     repulsion. It was hands down the most putrid-tasting grilled cheese sandwich in the world.
    “Theo, is there a problem?” Mrs. Wellington asked while staring at the boy’s contorted face.
    “My tongue,” Theo gasped. “The taste buds are rotting.”
    Lulu rolled her eyes at Theo, then took a bite of her sandwich. Garrison and Madeleine followed suit before Lulu was able
     to gag in horror.
    “What is that, old man?” Lulu howled at Schmidty.
    “Lulu, he can’t hear. He’s deaf and fat. However, the fatness is not the reason for the deafness; I asked the doctor to make
     sure. You see, for a while it seemed as if there was nowhere left for the fat to go except his ear canals. He had literally
     filled up every extra inch with chunk. So naturally, I assumed the fat had clogged his ears.”
    “Madame, your knowledge of the human body is truly astounding,” Schmidty added with a huff.
    “My tongue. I’m not sure it will ever be the same,” Theo moaned. “Without food, I’ve got nothing. I’ve already been separated
     from my family and now … food.”
    “Mr. Theo, I presume you don’t care for the Casu Frazigu?” Schmidty said.
    “I must need an earbud because I thought I heard you say Casu Frazigu,” Madeleine said to Schmidty.
    “An earbud,” Lulu mocked Madeleine.
    “Excuse me, Lulu, but I speak the Queen’s English.”
    “So what? I speak the President’s English.”
    “Yes, and I have a feeling I know exactly which president,” Madeleine responded.
    “Um, um,” Schmidty cleared his throat, “you do not need an earbud or Q-tip. I did indeed say Casu Frazigu. It’s Madame’s favorite
     taste, but after the Italian Government made it illegal, I spent years perfecting the flavor through spices and roots and
     a few secret substances.”
    “For clarification’s sake, there is no actual Casu Frazigu in this sandwich?” Madeleine said while turning green with nausea.
     Depending on his answer, the table could easily be covered in vomit in seconds.
    “No,” Schmidty responded.
    “What on Earth is this ca-si dra-g-oo?” Theo blubbered with his tongue still hanging out of his mouth.
    “Maggot cheese,” Madeleine blurted out.
    “Maggot cheese!” Lulu screamed.
    “I don’t understand what that even means,” Garrison said honestly. “Cheese comes from cows.”
    “Yes, Garrison, but when the