You lean back, propping your feet up on the principal's desk, and run a comb through your hair. You hear voices from outside, then the man himself enters. Dr. Harcomb. Although he's just a high school principal, he insists on being called "Doctor." You doubt the legitimacy of his degree; it's something of a joke around the school. He's a large man of colour, standing two heads taller than you, and built roughly like the proverbial brick shit house.

Harcomb looks at you thoughtfully for a moment then begins to sing.

"You've been in my office nine times this week.
The thought of seeing you makes me weak.
We've talked all about spitballs and thumbtacks,
Covered topics from noogies to comebacks,
So now there's just one thing I want to hear you say:
Why, sweet God why, are you in my office today?"