It was second grade. We were working on some US history project. The assignment had to do with presidents, can't quite remember what exactly. Instead of having our desks all lined up in rows like normal, we moved them into circles so we could work in groups. I had one of those eight color ink pens, the fattie one. And while I was thinking in my mind, not about US history at all, but mutants and nuclear war zombies, I was rapidly selecting each color in order.

There was this girl, Leah. She had pissed in her classroom seat at least three times, so she got the glorious nickname of Pee Pee Lee. This caused her to be shy and quirky. Yes I participated in the ridicule. Kids are viscious little shits, another reason to refrain from breeding.

So I'm furiously clicking away on my pen pointed directly at Pee Pee Lee. I did not plan this as some furthering of her torment. Somehow the green ink selection blasted out of the pen and hit Leah square in the forehead. And it stuck right in there. I remember staring in amazement as Leah seized up frozen from the shock, and the little ink shaft bounced up and down like a suction cup arrow hitting its target in a cartoon. She screams, tears abound.

Mrs. Brent runs over and yanks the ink shaft out of her cranium. A little green dot has been embedded into her forehead. She can't stop crying. Mrs. Brent calls me a couple of names and accuses me of purposely shooting Leah with my pen. I had other problems with this teacher, she was kind of an idiot. I don't wanna get into it, but lets just say if she came down with some skin condition it would give me pleasure to know that. Cause like what? I Maguyvered the pen so that it became a projectile weapon? I was clever as a lad, but not that clever.

The worse part was that I accidentally tattooed a dot on her head. No joke, at least it was there all the way up to the fifth grade.