How Vice Principals, Suckups, and Burninated Cities Came To Be In My Life (Or, Where My Anger Led Me)

Crap, crap, crap, crap…

I couldn’t believe I was being led to the Senior Principal Burrito’s office for the second time in three hours.

Correction, I was being led to the Vice Principal’s office. (Don’t bother asking me what his name is. He’s hardly ever even here at school.)

Unfortunately, as if he personally wanted to add to my torture, Professor Buttercup deemed this an appropriate time for a lecture of how important the Senior Principal Burrito was to the school.

“This wonderful man has done so much for this school, you don’t even know!”

(If there’s something you need to know about Professor Buttercup, it’s that he’s the largest suck-up since leeches inhabited the earth. He’s been aiming for the Vice Principal position since Pompeii got burninated.)

I stopped listening about halfway through the second sentence to Buttercup’s mindless blathering, and just followed wherever his jelly grip on my shoulder led me.

Which happened to be Professor Buttercup’s room.

NOOOOO !’s echoed around my skull.

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