Your knee shoots up on instinct, slamming into his crotch with the force of a thousand suns. He screeches like a thrown cat, stumbling backwards and clutching his junk. The kid gives you a worried glance and runs off, leaving you with the teacher. He opens his mouth to say something, but he's cut off as the principal's door flies open, slamming into his head. He hits to floor with a thud. He's out cold. The principal turns to you, confused. "Who screamed like a little girl who stepped on a three-days-dead mouse?"