Grade school giggles evolve into flatulence jokes that no amount of deodorant or cologne can deter. Out of desperation I try packing and threatening tormentors with pepper spray.
Genius.
After returning from suspension, all my appearances are now preceded by warning cries, parting crowds like the Red Sea.
The anonymous Valentine, recited aloud by the delivery Cupid, simply reads ‘Pretty Flower’. Chemistry 101 dissolves into hysterics, but as I mindlessly peel petals from the rose I realize Anna is the only person not laughing, and that her last name is Deer.