A man with messy, snow hair and a black eye patch made his way down the halls, wheeling a trash can in front of him. He wore a pure white jump suit, the name Jones stitched in on it's front right pocket, with it's legs neatly tucked into a pair white work boots and it's sleeves rolled up just passed his elbows. He whistled a light tone as he walked the halls, the sound of the can's wheels rolling over the tiles being drowned out. As he passed any trash he would look it over for a moment before it would suddenly vanish, no puff of smoke or flash of light just simply not be there, and somehow be in the man's trash can. This was a usual sight for anyone who attended the school long enough. Mr. Packard Jones, or rather PJ as everyone knew him, doing his daily rounds of trash collecting. The white haired man was nearing the Principal's office, partly to empty the office's trash can but mostly to get in his usual sarcastic remark in at the poor women's seemingly stressful carrier.