As hard as Miss. Tirto tried, she could not persuade Lilo to give up on show-and-tell. And she did in fact try very, very hard to discourage her. The first time had been... an interesting affair. Lilo had brought in a green, floppy headed doll and told a rambling story about eggs in people's heads and worms eating brains that sent a few of the more sensitive children running out of the room crying. After that particular trauma, Miss. Tirto had sat Lilo down and made her promise: no more weird stories.
For a while after that things had gone well. Lilo's items were a bit out of place among the other childrens', but her stories were never as bad as the first. The relative tranquility lasted for about three weeks. During the last show-and-tell, things had taken a nasty turn. The odd little girl had brought in a blue... koala? Whatever the thing was, it ravaged the classroom like a hurricane, biting and scratching Miss. Tirto when she tried to pull it off of the redhead in the back row (who had been, admittedly, throwing her pencils at it in right before it pounced on her) and eating one of the class gerbils. Lilo had tried to stop it, shouting out something about Elvis and a badness level being unexpectedly high over the chaos, but the “koala” had given her very little heed. When the creature had finally exhausted itself, and a funeral had been held for Squeeky McGee, Miss. Tirto sat Lilo down and outright forbid her from participating in show-and-tell anymore. Several angry phone calls from her older sister later, the school had made Miss. Tirto apologize to Lilo and explain that she was free to participate in any and all school activities. She had still, however, very strongly urge the girl to give diligent consideration to what she brought in next.
So when Lilo told Miss. Tirto that she was bringing her “Uncle Bubbles” in for the next show-and-tell, the exhausted teacher brought plenty of antiseptic and hoped desperately that this Bubbles thing was in the very least inanimate. She did not sleep well that night.
She would have hardly slept better if she knew what Lilo was actually bringing.
“This,” Lilo proudly proclaimed on the fateful show-and-tell “, is my Uncle Bubbles.” Uncle Bubbles stared across the classroom, his face stony. Well, he probably stared. The sunglasses made it hard to tell, but every child in the room felt absolutely sure that the man was glaring directly at them. Lilo looked back at the seven foot agent in a polished black suit, a bit nervous. Bubbles nodded subtly at her, and she turned back to the classroom, rambling happily as she rocked back and forth in her sandals.
“So, Uncle Bubbles is a social services worker and he almost broke up my ohana but he did feel bad and then what happened was that then Stitch fought a police alien with a buggy so he didn't have to be exiled a second time and the good news was that since I paid for him after he got hit by that truck it meant that Uncle Bubbles' girlfriend who is the President of the alien UN let me keep him as long as he stays on earth and now he's back at the Government but not the CIA, a different place with another acronym and also he has a cool gun.” There was a long and slightly strained silence in the room. Miss. Tirto couldn't tell if this was better or worse than the last time. “So that's the story of how I met Uncle Bubbles!” Lilo finished confidently.
“Well, alright then.” Miss. Tirto clasped her hands together, addressing the class “Does anyone have any questions for Lilo? Or.... erm... is your name really Bubbles?”
“Well, that's a... very interesting name. So, class, what do you want to know about Mr. Bubbles?” The redhead who had been mauled by the blue koala raised her hand, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Are you a spy?” The girl asked.
“I'm a social worker.” Cobra answered coldly. Mertle was not even remotely satisfied by that answer.
“If you worked for the CIA that means you were a spy, doesn't it?”
“That information will be declassified in seventy years time. Look it up then.” Mertle was triumphant at this response.
“I knew you were a spy!” The redhead insisted “Are you spying on Weirdlo? Is she a terrorist?”
“Now Myrtle.” Miss. Tirto stressed “Let some other children have a turn. Who else wants to know about Mr Bubbles? Something that isn't about being a spy.” The classroom, clearly waiting for an excuse to interrupt, erupted in questions.
“Can I see your gun?”
“Do you have a taser?”
“How did you get so tall?”
“Do you know the President?”
“I've met him.”
“Can you taser someone?”
“What kind of alien is your girlfriend?”
“Do those sunglasses hurt your penultimate vision?”
“It's 'peripheral' stupid.”
“I believe your teacher asked you not to talk Mertle.”
“WILL you taser someone?”
“Are you from the Men In Black cartoons?”
“I don't watch cartoons.”
“Will you taser ME?” Cobra was quiet for a while, before pulling his glasses down to stare at the electroshock-enthusiast.
“I'll tell you what. I'm going to have someone put you on a list of people who can never join the police force. For your safety, and for the safety of all citizens of the United States.” Miss. Tirto, sensing that the situation was becoming strained, spoke up.
“Alright class, these are some very interesting questions, but Mr. Bubbles time-”
“How many people have you killed with your bare hands?” There was a long pause, during which every pair of eyes, including Miss. Tirto's, was on Cobra's indifferent expression.
“It's very rude to interrupt your teacher when she's talking.” He said with just an edge of menace, putting his glasses back into place.
“...Thank you Mr. Bubbles. Now class, Lilo's five minutes are more than spent, and it's time to move on to the next item.” There was a collective 'Awww' of disappointment from the classroom. “Let's give Lilo and Mr. Bubbles a hand, shall we?” As lukewarm applause filled the air, Lilo skipped back to her seat. Cobra stalked to the back of the classroom, where he sat gingerly upon a work bench and crossed his arms, clearly intending to stay for the rest of the day.
As Jeffery showed off the tenth clam shell he had brought in to school this year, Miss. Tirto wondered wearily how hard it would be to eliminate show-and-tell from the entire school's curriculum.