Stimulus-Organism-Response
Copyright© 2026 by Zappedfan
Chapter 3
As Jane turned to Peyton, Bernadette slinked sideways and backed into her podium, trying desperately to shield herself. The crowd was still cheering wildly. ‘How am I going to get out of this now?’ Bernadette thought. ‘Peyton has my clothes. Then again, he’s already got what he wanted. He may be nasty, but he isn’t mean like Jane.’
The cheering finally began to die down, just in time for Bernadette to overhear the conversation happening beside her.
“A deal’s a deal, Jane,” Peyton said, handing her the suitcase and its small key.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?” Bernadette screamed.
“Sorry, Bernadette,” Peyton replied with a shrug. “Jane wouldn’t help me write the letter unless I promised her your clothes.”
Bernadette glared at Jane. “Raise the stakes, you said. Invite all the boys, you said. Give me that suitcase!”
“Well, that wouldn’t be my typical behavior,” Jane answered sweetly. She clutched the suitcase tightly to her torso with one arm and pointed downstage center with the other.
“But given the proper stimulus...” Jane said, her voice teasing. The audience erupted again, immediately launching into a new chant: “DANCE! DANCE! DANCE!”
“Jane!” Bernadette protested, ducking further behind the podium for cover. “We don’t have time for this. You still have to present your project.”
“Bernie, Bernie, Bernie...” Jane said, thumping the suitcase with her free hand. “You are my project.”
Bernadette cringed behind the podium, using its narrow width as her only shield. She was as naked as a jaybird, standing on a stage in front of hundreds of teenage boys. Her clothes were locked away in a suitcase held by her worst enemy. And, believe it or not, things were about to get worse.
“What do you mean, I am your project?” she asked.
“Actually,” Barney said, standing up, “I prepared something with Edgar and Vincent, my mice.”
Jane shot him a sharp glare. “Go operate the spotlight.”
Barney headed obediently for the control booth as Jane turned back to Bernadette with a predatory smile.
“Do you want this suitcase?” Jane asked.
“Of course!” Bernadette snapped.
“Then that’s your stimulus,” Jane explained. “Your response is to stand downstage center with your back to the audience and recite a little rhyme while touching your toes twenty times.”
“WHOOOAH!” The audience roared in approval.
“I’m not doing that!” Bernadette shouted
“Suit yourself,” Jane said with a shrug. “Or birthday suit yourself, in this case.”
The crowd laughed, and Bernadette blushed even deeper.
“But I’m curious, Bernadette—how do you plan to get your clothes back?”
Bernadette fell silent. She had no plan. She had never truly believed she would actually have to strip. It had never occurred to her to prepare for this outcome.
‘Isn’t there one gentleman in the audience who might rescue me?’ she thought desperately. ‘Oh, right. Jane hand-picked this crowd. Men! Maybe if I’d been nicer to the other girls in Mr. Nick’s class, one of them would help... ‘
“Well?” Jane pressed.
‘Mr. Nick would drive me home,’ Bernadette considered. ‘No—I’m not climbing naked into Mr. Nick’s car. I could streak home, but that’s miles away on busy streets in broad daylight ... and I’m barefoot.’
“If I do the toe touches,” Bernadette asked cautiously, “and the rhyme ... you’ll give me the suitcase?”
“That will be my response,” Jane replied.
Bernadette looked at her skeptically over the top of her glasses. “I don’t trust you.”
“If I don’t give you the suitcase,” Jane said, “I’ll get a zero on this assignment, fail the course, and have to spend summer school alone with Mr. Nick.”
Mr. Nick perked up noticeably in his seat.
“Calm down, Mr. Nick,” Jane said with a smirk. “I’m going to give her the suitcase.”
This logic seemed sound to Bernadette. Jane’s grades weren’t strong enough to absorb a zero on the final project and still pass. And everyone knew Mr. Nick would love nothing more than to have Jane alone in his classroom every day over a long, hot summer—probably wearing short shorts and tank tops. Jane wouldn’t want to waste her vacation that way.
‘She’ll give me the suitcase,’ Bernadette concluded.
She pushed her glasses up her nose. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll do it.”
The audience cheered. Bernadette stepped out from behind the podium, still covering herself as best she could with her hands.
“I’ll just go down front for this part,” Peyton announced, jumping off the stage and taking a seat in the audience.
“It figures,” Bernadette muttered in disgust.
Then Mr. Nick stood up and started to follow him.
“MISTER NICK!” Bernadette scolded.
Mr. Nick turned, shrugged innocently, and said, “It’s all for science,” before hopping off the stage.
Bernadette’s legs trembled slightly as she walked downstage center to meet Jane. “What’s the rhyme?” she asked warily.
Jane leaned in and whispered it into her ear.
“Oh, that’s so juvenile!” Bernadette groaned.
“Are you ready with the spotlight, Barney?” Jane called out. The house lights dimmed as a bright spotlight snapped on, bathing Jane and Bernadette in brilliant white light.
“And now,” Jane announced to the eager audience, “the girl who called me a spoiled brat and a dumb blonde ... Bernadette Holland!”
Jane stepped back out of the spotlight with a flourish.
Bernadette took a deep breath, turned slowly around, and faced away from the crowd. A roar went up as soon as her bare backside came into full view. She cringed, placed her hands on her hips, and bent forward to touch her toes while reciting in a mortified voice:
“You see my HEINIE, It’s white and SHINY. If I don’t HIDE it, You’re gonna BITE it!”
The audience howled with laughter. Bernadette touched her toes at the end of every line while the crowd clapped along in rhythm. By the end of the fifth repetition, she had completed her twentieth toe touch.
“BERNADETTE, WAIT!” Jane suddenly screamed. “DON’T MOVE!”
Jane sounded genuinely alarmed. Bernadette froze in the bent-over position.
‘What now?’ she wondered. ‘Is something on me?’
“Turn on the lights!” Jane shouted.
The house lights came up. The audience saw Jane with a finger pressed to her lips, silently urging them to stay quiet. She glanced at her wristwatch, then held up one finger and slowly mouthed to the crowd: O-N-E M-I-N-U-T-E.
Bernadette waited, growing more uncomfortable by the second. Jane tiptoed downstage, out of Bernadette’s line of sight. The audience remained hushed. Jane inspected Bernadette’s exposed bottom, then gave the crowd a thumbs-up.
None of this made sense to Bernadette. She started to straighten up.
“No! No!” Jane shouted from another spot on the stage. Bernadette quickly bent down again.
‘What is Jane doing?’ she thought in frustration. Jane threw her head back in silent laughter.
“Jane, what is it?” Bernadette demanded.
Jane held up two fingers and mouthed: T-W-O M-I-N-U-T-E-S.
The crowd struggled to stay quiet, but Bernadette remained oblivious. Another thirty seconds passed.
“Jane, answer me or I’m getting up!” Bernadette said sternly.
“No, don’t,” Jane urged, eyes still fixed on her watch. “Just don’t move.”
Bernadette sighed in exasperation and shifted her weight slightly for comfort. A wave of stifled giggles rippled through the audience. Then came one wolf whistle ... followed by ten ... then hundreds.
“That’s IT!” Bernadette snapped. She stood up, covered herself with her arms, and spun around. Jane was standing there, still timing her on the watch.
“Awww,” Jane said with mock sympathy. “Eight more seconds and you would have made three full minutes.”
Bernadette seethed as realization dawned. She had been tricked again.
“Why did you make me do that?” she demanded angrily.
“Just to see if you would,” Jane replied with a grin. “Stimulus-Organism-Response.”
“You didn’t say I had to pose like that to get the suitcase. You only had to do the toe touches and the rhyme.
“The extra three minutes was just because I told you to.”
The audience erupted in laughter. Bernadette looked utterly crushed.
“Didn’t you say this stuff only works on lower-order species?” Jane asked innocently.
Bernadette shot her a furious look.
“An apology would go a long way right now,” Jane suggested.