A boy of about eight, Eurasian in appearance, with dark brown curly hair and light brown eyes sits at his desk, a computer screen faces him. Hey pays no attention to the lesson being presented. He draws cartoon characters on a white computerized notebook. The rather plump character which, was clearly made to look like the teacher is eaten by a rabid rabbit.

"Tom?" says the teacher. "Are you paying attention?

Tom ignores the teacher and continues to stare at the silly animated show he has created.

"TOM?" The teacher asks again.

She walks up the small child. The teacher looms above him menacingly. Tom is complete un-alarmed by the teachers penetrating stare and glances of discontent.

He looks up his eyes resting on the teacher's nose. Mrs. Frimpleton sure has a large nose he thinks. He ignores the voice in his head which said to him "don't do it." Tom smiles mischievously. He grabs Mrs. Frimpleton's nose. It catches her off guard.

"Honk, honk," he says, moments later he bursts into uncontrollable giggles. His stomach starts to hurt. His eyes well up with tears. The other classmates join on his amusements.

Then Tom's ear hurt…It is Mrs. Frimpleton.

"That's it I've had enough of you," she says angrily. She drags him to the principles office. Tom resists the entire way.

"Old bag," he yells.

"That's enough," Mrs Frimpleton replies. She yanks on his ear even harder.

They arrive at the principles office. Mrs. Frimpleton bangs on the blue doors. They slide open.

"You know you could have just pressed the button," says a secretary.

"It was broken," Mrs. Frimpleton says angrily.

"By you know doubt," says the secretary. "Oh Tom, second time today, what have you been up too?"

"This cheeky little bugger thought it would be funny to squeeze my nose." She continues to yank on Tom's ear. He winces in pain.

"Laura," says the secretary. "I think you should let of that poor boys ear."

"Tom's a…" Mrs. Frimpleton starts.

"A Larrikin?" the secretary states. "I know, I know, but you can't completely blame it on him."

Tom looks to the floor sadly. He knows who this secretary is. It's his mother.

"Hi Mum," he says sheepishly.

"Oh he is just like his father," she says proudly.

She smiles at Tom. He is her pride and joy, but that's a common trait from most mothers.

"Belle," says Mrs. Frimpleton. "I suggest you teach this brat some manners. Teach him to be civilized or I swear he will never amount to anything."

She lets go of Tom's ear. He touches it gingerly. Mrs. Frimpleton stomps off.

"Grow up Tom!" she yells.

Belle the secretary hugs her little boy to comfort him. She grabs his hand and leads him to the sanitised office. He sits on a blue chair forlornly.

Mrs. Frimpleton is wrong Tom thinks. I will amount to something. All Brannigans do.