A/n: Ah, this chapter was nearly impossible to finish writing...hence the shortness. Sorry it's not the greatest either.

A preview of what's happened:

The cafeteria doors swung open. And a beet-red Mr. Mallard stormed in. He didn't even look in our direction, just took in the sight of his precious cafeteria filled with food everywhere, on the walls, on the floor, on the tables, on the students. He looked like he was about to pass out or have a heart attack for a minute, but apparently he had enough energy to just call out "IAN SCHAFFER!!"

Uh-oh. I guess someone's busted. What are you looking at me for?

000( I ) ( A ) ( N )000

Chapter 2: Are You Serious?

Mallard ushered me into his office, past the old wrinkled secretary who was throwing me glares from over her thick wire-rimmed glasses. What can I say? They hate my guts…

He gestured to a seat, hands still clenched trying to control his anger. He sat down stiffly and stared at me for a full minute before I raised an eyebrow. Creepy…like he was trying to set my hair on fire. I raked my hand though my hair. Hmm, only pudding.

"Mr. Schaffer, do you realize that this is the fourth food fight this month alone. If you continue this, you shall have to be expelled for defacing school property. Do you understand me?!!"

Oh yea…at the volume you're talking I bet even the dead hear you.

"Sure." I crossed my arms and slouched down in my seat. I wiggled a pen and a piece of paper out of my jeans pocket and began to scribble, propping the paper on my knee to keep it out of sight.

"Alright, now I've contacted a friend of mine who volunteered to help me with a certain project. You…are to learn to ballroom-dance as your punishment."

Whoo-hoo!! No detention! Wait a sec…did I hear him right? Ballroom dancing? This is NOT acceptable behavior for a young growing teenage boy such as…myself.

"Are you serious? I can't learn ballroom dancing. That stuff is for chicks and sissy boys." I slammed my fist down on his table, frightening him a little.

My reputation will go down the drain. Instead of being the comedian I'll be the freaking joke. Does he really want to be responsible for the end of a high schooler's existence?

"I've ended the careers of several before you, and I guarantee more will come."

Did I just say that aloud?

"That's great, that's freaking awesome." Wow, my short-lived existence as a free and not bullied individual in the cruel high school system was coming to an end.

"You know what this means right? Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays, you are to meet this man, Morales, for your lessons starting next week. Also, your fellow victim, ahem, I mean partner is left to your discretion. Choose wisely for you will be spending a lot of time with this girl. Now get back to class!"

I casually strolled out of the principal's office. The one way to tick them off is to make sure you don't care what they throw at you. Yea I know it's a little late for that what with my yelling and all; but, really, it's never too late to piss off your favorite principal.

I nodded at the secretary (old bat that she is) and walked out of the office.


"SCHAFFER!!!! Get back into my office this instant!!"

I took off running down the hallway, scuffing a couple tiles with my boots. Geez, you think the guy would take a friendly comment on him more lightly, come on, he must get them at least, hmm, every other hour.

-in the office-

Principal Mallard crumples up the little sign he found covering his name plate.

"Schaffer…" he growls. He walks out of his office expecting to at least encounter the backside of his most troublesome student. Empty.

He sighs and turns to face Mrs. Keene who is squinting at him suspiciously from over her glasses as she's typing away on her keyboard.

"Mrs. Keene…do you…do you think I'm particularly unattractive?" He hesitantly asks.

"What? You know I'm getting a bit hard o' hearing these days. Speak up!" She cups her ears and learns closer.

"N-" He clears his throat. "Never mind." He briskly walks back into his room.

The note, tossed in the garbage can reads:

License for the facially challenged: 0000890186310058769000

Mr. Montgomery Mallard Class A

Not allowed outside in public areas for more than 1 hr: precautionary measures.