Sokka's Haiku battle:

Sokka: (after being kicked into a Haiku reading) I am so sorry! Something struck me in the rear. I just... wound up... here? (students giggle)
Madame Macmu-Ling: Five, seven, then five, syllables mark a Haiku, (Bowing her head to him) remarkable oaf.
Sokka: (Looking annoyed, then ponders this for a second.) They call me Sokka, that is in the water tribe, (Counting the next five syllables on his fingers as he says them) I am not an oaf.
Madame Macmu-Ling: Chittering monkey, in the spring he climbs treetops, and thinks himself tall.
Students: Ooooh.
Sokka: You think you're so smart, with your fancy little words, this is not so hard.
Students: Ooooh!
Madame Macmu-Ling: Whole seasons are spent mastering the form, the style, none calls it easy!
Sokka: I calls it easy! Like I paddle my canoe, (Turns around and paddles his behind once) I'll paddle yours too!
Students: (Laughing)
Madame Macmu-Ling: There's nuts and there's fruits, (Pulls a plum from her sleeve and drops it to the ground) in fall the clinging plum drops, always to be squashed.
(She steps on the plum, squashing it.)

Sokka: Squish squash, sling that slang! I'm always right back at ya, like my (pulls out boomerang) BOOMERANG!
Students: (Laughing)
Sokka: (Sheathing his boomerang and making more arm movements) That's right I'm Sokka, it's pronounced with an 'okka', young ladies, I rocked ya!
(silence and cold stares; Sokka counts syllables on fingers and realizes his terrible mistake)

Security: Uh, that's one too many syllables there, bub. (throws him out)