I looked around the waiting room. Strange. Where a line of smart alecks usually sat waiting for justice, empty chairs greeted me.
Principal Zero must be putting his punishment on speed dial, I thought.
I stepped inside. Behind a wide black desk sat Principal Zero, the source of all discipline at Emerson Hicky Elementary. I knew I was about to get mine.
"Yes?" he said.
I laid my pink slip and the torn drawing side by side on his desk. He looked from one to the other.
"Nice artwork, Mr.... Gecko," he said. "It has a wonderful sense of color, and the style is quite mature."
I blinked. He was serious.
"Lovely use of dark and light," said Principal Zero. He picked up the pink slip. "Now, what seems to be the problem?"
"Well, Mr. Ratnose didn't ... urn ... like my drawing."
"I can't believe it," he said. "Perhaps his taste in art is not so refined. I'd love to have a piece like this in my collection. Could you bear to part with it?"
That's when I knew.
Either my principal had lost his mind, or someone had kidnapped the real Mr. Zero.