Not an Average School Day

Ms. Trout was running late going into 4th hour Art class. She was always late, but this time she showed up almost 10 minutes after the bell rang. When she did show up she was dragging a box. She was out of breath and sweating, she placed the large cardboard box on the ground and then scurried out promising she'd return swiftly. Looks were exchanged between me and my classmates as the box began to slightly move, then quiver, then shake furiously. The taped cardboard flaps got pushed out and what emerged was not quite what we all expected...

Miss Penelope Trout began teaching at our school 4 years ago. She was 27 years old and she was very short, only about 5'3". She had a small mouse-like face and pink streaks in her jet-black hair. No one really knew where she came from or what she did before she started teaching at Pleasantville High School. I've heard rumors that she was an art professor at the Art Institute of Chicago, but then she got fired for unknown reasons. For the past couple of weeks she had been acting unusual, well... more unusual than usual. Anyway that's enough about Ms. Trout and it's time to get back to the unusual day at Pleasantville High...

...Out of the box popped what appeared to be Ms. Trout, but she never re-entered the room. "Ms. Trout" then said, "I am the real Ms. Trout, the lady that has been teaching you is a clone that is pretending to be me. She's been keeping me in the gym. but it's being cleaned so she brought me here, she thought I was still knocked out." Simultaniously all of our jaws dropped. Just as she was about to say something else, the clone re-entered the room. She looked around for a few seconds before she started to chase the real Ms . Trout around. They rolled around and got up, both arguing that they were not the clone. The rest of the students and I were stunned and confused to say the least. We decided to have a huddle and debate about how to find out who the imposter is. After about three minutes of talking, we came up with a fool-proof plan. I pulled out a bag of chocolate-covered cherries and handed each of them one. The first Ms. Trout immediatly ate the cherry and the sudents jumped on her while I called the police. Everybody knows Ms. Trout hates chocolate covered cherries.