Juvenalas Penitatas
With Apologies to Leslie Fish

Fridays were one of the best days in Northrock Correctional Elementary, and not just because the weekend was so tantalisingly close; it was an elective day, when penitatas could escape their classrooms and pursue more specialist interests.
Music was easily one of the favourites. Mr Hachi ran the class, and he did so with a gentle paw; the rejuves could practice solo or collaboratively, working with whatever instruments they wished, and he was both patient and understanding when it came to preferences and progress. Talek had signed up as soon as he learned who the teacher was, and while most of his time was spent plucking off-key notes on a cheap child's guitar he nevertheless enjoyed himself.
It helped immensely that he had familiar faces joining him; Kost the Kyyreni and Bubbles the Vaku both joined at the same time he did, though their progress was far superior. Bubbles was bashing out drum-beats from day one, while Kost went from stuttering scrapes of a violin to jaunty, festive dances in the space of two lessons.
“You guys are both so much better than me!” Talek announced toward the end of the latest lesson, having created nothing but noise and sore fingers for himself.
Kost grinned at the green-scaled lizard boy. “I learned to play at a young age. Music is always a good fallback skill to have. I originally played the guitar, or at least an instrument much like one. May I?”
Talek handed his instrument over. Kost plucked the odd string, tuned each in turn, then went from single notes to a simple little tune. As he played, Bubbles began to hum along, which caught the blond, wolf-like boy's attention. “Oh, you remember that one?”
“I do,” the frog girl replied. “I also remember how we used to play it when you were sloshed.”
Kost laughed aloud at the comment. Grinning ear to ear as only the sharp-toothed little boy could, Kost turned towards Mr Hachi. “Sir? Would it be okay if we did a song for the class?”
“I don't see why not,” Mr Hachi replied with a fatherly smile. The Karrian turned to the rest of the class, “gather round, everyone! We have an impromptu performance!”

Kost settled himself on a chair, making some last minute adjustments to the guitar. Bubbles took a seat next to him. “This song is called 'New Sins for Old.' We don't play it exactly as it was written but... well, you'll see what I mean.”
With a playful flourish of notes, Kost began to sing in as sorrowful and sombre a tone as a six-year-old could manage. “Oh what's the use of this looting and pillaging?”
“I dunno, I never got to do any of that,” Bubbles answered.
Kost stopped playing and frowned at her. “It's a rhetorical question, Bubbles.”
“Oh. I knew that!”
With a sigh, the boy began to play again. “Oh what's the use of this looting and pillaging? Swinging my Bat'leth through blood, guts and gore?”
“I think you did that because you wanted other people's stuff,” Bubbles chimed in with a friendly grin on her face.
The boy turned to his classmates with a pleading look in his eyes. “Bubbles, a 'rhetorical' question is one you aren't supposed to try and answer.”
“Oh... you mean like when your girlfriend asks if her bum looks big in her new dress?”
“Yes, exactly like that!” he answered over the giggles of the other penitatas. He resumed playing. “Fighting and stealing and boozing grow boring. The life of a pirate's no fun anymore!”
There was a brief pause as Kost glanced sidelong at Bubbles as if expecting another interruption. The girl looked at him, happy as ever, and even gave a quick little wave. With a shrug, Kost resumed; “Always the same, all the planning and-” he halted at a loud, derisive snort from Bubbles. “What now?”
“Since when do you plan anything?”
“I'm making plans right now, actually.”
“Oh?”
“Yes indeed. I'm planning on hitting you over the head with this guitar if you interrupt me again!”
Bubbles mimed zipping her mouth shut. The Vaku girl grinned at the audience while Kost, tight lipped and suspicious, carefully resumed his song. “Always the same, all the planning and ambushing; pouncing, attacking and hauling away. But the whoring and boozing and passing out afterwards-” he scowled at his female friend as the Amphibian made some mumbling sounds, pretending to try and talk with a zipped up mouth. Over the titters he snarled, “-you're getting monotonous day after day!”
As Kost drew a deep breath to begin the next verse, Bubbles sang out loudly and joyfully over him. “Iiiii've bounced in more beds than there's hairs on my you-know-what! I've bred...” she turned, puzzled at the silent guitar and the laughter of her class, and found herself fixed in a stony stare from Kost.
“Got many hairs on your 'you-know-what', do you?”
Bubbles, without a moment's hesitation, lifted up her skirt and pulled her panties down, revealing her smooth, feminine mound to the riotous laughter of all present. Even the teacher smirked. “Nope!” she announced, letting the skirt drop.
From behind his paws, Kost dared ask, “And how many beds have you bounced in?”
“Just the one, but I won't do it again! Mom said 'it's a bed, not a trampoline!' then she spanked me good and hard.”
Kost's lowered his paws again. The resulting stare he aimed towards Bubbles went on so long the awkward silence became amusing to the others in and of itself. “you're not allowed to sing again,” he said at last, and resumed playing despite her 'awww!' of protest.
“I've bounced in more beds than there's fur on my you-know-what! I've bred enough bastards to crew my own ship!”
“That means 'children born out of wedlock', so it's not a swear!” Bubbles piped in urgently, looking at the grinning teacher.
“Yes, thanks for that. I've ne'er been inclined to stay home and raise one of them, so who'll call me dad when I've emptied my clip?”
Every member of the class turned to Bubbles to see what the latest interruption would be, but the girl just sat with an innocent smile on her face. Kost resumed the final verse. “I've got an itch-”
“You had that too?” Bubbles blurted out.
“What?”
“The itch! Remember, I told mum I was itchy downstairs and she took me to a lady-doctor? She said I had an infection in my naughty bits and gave me some cream but it still... why are you staring at me like that?” she finished over the howls of the other rejuves.
Kost stummed the most deliberate note ever played, and practically snarled out his reply, “-to go do something different!”
“Ooooh!”
“Yes.”
“You were singing about a philosophical epiphany.”
“Yes.”
“Not a yeast infection?”
“No.”
Bubbles thought about this for a moment. “I should probably stop interrupting.”
“You probably should have stopped three verses ago,” Kost replied. This, it seemed, broke the ever-present cheer of Bubbles, who pouted as only a big-eyed, big-lipped amphibian could. The audience dutifully went 'awww!' With a sigh, Kost offered an olive branch. “Okay, okay! Why don't you sing the last verse?”
“Really?”
“Sure! It's not like it could get any worse at this point.”
“Yay!” Bubbles returned to her ever-cheery self, clearing her throat in preparation as Kost played her in from the top. “I've got an itch-”
“But she's got some cream for it!” Kost blurted out, grinning wickedly. “sorry, I couldn't resist!”
Bubbles scowled at him. “From the top! I've got an itch to go do something different. Get a good farm, be a nice, buxom bride! Kost, what does 'buxom' mean?”
Kost quite deliberately looked at the teacher, and poker faced said, “I do not know.”
“Probably means 'pretty', right?”
“Could be.”
“Should I call mum 'buxom'?”
Kost's eyes glazed over. His muzzle tilted upward, paws coming together, and his lips moved in a silent prayer. To Talek, it looked a lot like he was saying, “please, please let her do that!” With the moment gone he smacked the guitar and played on.
Bubbles counted herself back in, “Raise some tall crops and a lot of fat tadpoles! Complacency's one sin that I've never tried!”
The pair finished strong together, “We've never tried, we've never tried, playing good citizens we've never tried!” A dozen variations of paws and claws applauded the duo, and they both took a bow with grins on their faces.
“Well, that was certainly different,” Mr Hachi said once the applause died down. “I don't know whether to recommend you two to Radio Northrock, or to give you a smack for disrupting the class with your nonsense!”
The two performers glanced at one another. The teacher's tone had been warm and friendly, but the words had to be taken seriously. “We... promise not to fool around again?” Bubbles offered.
Mr Hachi considered this. “Oh, alright! Back to your own instruments!”
Kost handed back the guitar. “Thanks, Talek,” he said with a nod, visibly relieved that their teacher had taken their antics well. Talek settled back in his chair and tapped a button on the arm to activate the sound-dampening field, then tried his best to remember the finger placements Kost had used. He strummed a chord that was almost-right and then worked through the notes at half speed, mumbling to himself all the while; “Oh what's the use of this looting and pillaging...”