In the ninth class came a new one. Special school of prison type. He participated in the removal of the lark, but the type only stood on the strait, so he was punished the mildest of all. Teachers all the time conducted educational work with us on the subject that Vova is an unfortunate man with a difficult fate, and we all ought to... Yes, just to the grave of life he ought to, fucking! From this attitude, Borges. If at first he maximally pulled the little things out of his pockets, then by the second quarter he began to openly take out any other thing that he liked, and any attempts to figure it out stumbled on the pedagogical "what, thing more regrettable than a man?!", "You will break his fate!" and other nonsense masking the unwillingness to take action. And only after he entered the bag to the chemistry, he was literally cleaned somewhere in a week. Well, because to educate humanity in others is one thing, and your shirt is closer to the body!