“Everybody, please stop talking and focus on your work.”

Everybody immediately froze at the clear sound of Mr. Mitchell’s voice. Mr. Mitchell, a balding old man in his sixties, was renowned by everybody for being a stickler for rules. He was known to give students detention for the simplest of things, such as talking or not having a pencil.

Bob sighed and looked up from the essay he was writing. His hand ached and his head reeled from concentrating so hard. He needed a break.

“Mr. Mitchell, may I please go to the washroom?”

“Very well, but hurry, you must finish your essay by the end of the period.”

Bob got up quickly and speed walked to the door. When Mr. Mitchell told you to hurry, you hurried.

Bob hurried back into the classroom, already planning out the next part of the essay. Quickly sitting down in his seat, his hand reached out for where he left his pencil, but grasped only air..

“What, I know that I left my pencil here!” Bob muttered.

Bob looked all over for his pencil; in his desk, on the floor, in his pencil case, but to no avail. His pencil seemed to have simply disappeared. The only pencil that he currently had. He could ask for one, but surely Mr. Mitchell would give him a detention. Suddenly, he saw that Fred, the student opposite from him, had his pencil!

Tapping Fred on the shoulder to get his attention, he leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Why did you steal my pencil when I went to the washroom?!”

“I didn’t steal your pencil,” he whispered back.

“Then why does your pencil look exactly like mine then?” he retorted.

“I don’t know, but I know that this pencil is mine!”

“Well, I think you stole my pencil,” Bob argued furiously.

“Well, I didn’t!”

“Yes you did!”

“No I didn’t!”

“Boys, that’s enough! Be quiet and get back to work or I will have to send you two down to the office!”

Bob leaned back into his chair moodily. Without a pencil he couldn’t complete his essay, and he couldn’t risk getting another detention from Mr. Mitchell all because of a pencil.

“Mr. Mitchell, may I please go and get a drink of water?” Fred politely asked.

“Yes, you may.”

As Fred made his way to the door, Bob suddenly had an idea. As soon as Fred was out of the door, he reached over and stole his pencil.