Unfortunately, the school principal understood you when used your job interview to tell him (in Spanish) that he was the size of an elephant's rear. Time to get a job cleaning up vomit at the local child care facility.

After a stint in Mexico, and moving far, far away from the aforementioned school principal, you land a gig teaching kindergarteners Spanish. They're cute right up until they try to bite your fingers off for the last Cheerio. At least they said "gracias."

You work at a decent school and have an extended contract for secondary. The Teacher's Excellence Award graces your living room, along with stacks of papers to grade. Who needs a social life, anyway?

Not only have you won tenure, but your students compete in the "Gab and Flap Language Drill" every year. They've won the golden flamingo three years standing (and they even did it on one leg).

Your teaching methodology, and corresponding book Don’t Garble, Just Spit, have been proven to improve student's language learning by 90%. You're on the docket to speak at fifteen foreign language conventions this year; probably because everyone wants to see you hawk a loogie after every other word.