"Move!" A voice from behind me screeched.

With a hard push to the shoulder blades, I was shoved into the whiteboard.

I spun around, puzzled as to who dared assault my person, but they were now in front of me. This forced me into a comical ballerina-esque twirl.

The antagonist sneered before me, obviously pleased with her popular little self.

We had been in the midst of entering math class, a non-class by virtue of the long term sub, Mr. Aarons #2. Not #1, #1 is English.

Not that they were ever confused, as #1 was a natural educator who made discipline an art. #2… well… she tried.

In any case, justice could not be executed by way of the proper authorities. Like in the old west, vigilante justice had to prevail.

I looked down at my orange. I looked up at her face. I repeated the procedure, formulating ways in which I could amend this travesty using citrus. My hip throbbing from where it made contact with the board, the antagonist still smirking, (as the process only took a few seconds) I acted.

"So, what happened between you and Lindsay?" The vice principal, a lady with no real authority, inquired.

"I tapped her in the head with an orange." I replied frankly.

"… I'm sorry, what?" Mrs. Edwards seemed surprised at my candid response.

"You hit her with an orange? She asked, "Then what?"

"Well, she told me 'I DARE you to do it again!' Sooo… I did. It really was her fault."

"YOU CANNOT HIT STUDENTS KATE!" The woman excLaimed.

"I did not HIT her! I TAPPED her in the head with an ORANGE! There's a significant difference in connotation." I exPlained.

"If Lindsay chose to complain to me about this you could be suspended!" Edwards didn't miss a beat.

"You have to be joking! She actually INJURED me! I tapped her with an orange named Pete! No bruises, no nothing! Harmless I tell you!" My voice took on a slightly panicked quality, but with good reason! Vigilante justice is not supposed to have consequences! NONE!

"Well, luckily for you, she didn't. You should really thank her." The VP stated calmly.

Heack. Naw.

Instead of verbalizing my righteous indignation, I rolled my eyes and sighed.

"Is that all?" I asked, exasperated beyond words.

It wasn't. As it turns out, the true purpose of the meeting was some nonsense about a fantastic joke I had told about her mother being a man. But that, my friend, is a tale for another time, another place.

The moral of this epic saga? When faced with confrontation in a class with no law, pull out whatever fruit remnants you have of your lunch, and tap the foe in the head.

TAP, not HIT, as there is a difference.

But never, I repeat NEVER. NOT EVER, UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES, EVEN UNDER DURESS, tell the proper authorities of your heroism.