Amidst the bustling of the cafeteria, a certain group of students sat at a corner table, right near the main doors in fact. They were a trio of jocks and a cheerleader, mostly from the track team. One of them, though, was a little more than that. Francis Williams, or Brick as he demanded everyone call him, was team captain, as well as captain of one or two of the other sports teams the Academy had to offer. He and his merry little band recently proclaimed themselves the Unofficial Disciplinary Committee. They were unofficial because, well, no faculty in their right minds would let these jerks come within a thousand miles of ever having actual authority. Didn't stop them from singling out the students they had something against and doing whatever it took to get them in trouble or just to make them miserable in general. In fact, one of their targets was one Ronald Richter, track team member and former "friend" of theirs. Brick patted his backpack and chuckled knowingly. For you see, earlier, he had broken into Ronnie's locker and swiped the clothes within before the aforementioned Ronnie could change out of his gym clothes.

Speaking of Ronnie, he came into the cafeteria right around that time. But something wasn't right. He was wearing his usual clothes, which were supposed to be in Brick's possession. Needless to say, this got Brick suspicious and he went to open his bag to check. Before he could open it though, Ronnie noticed his odd behavior and spoke up, "Hey Brick, what's the matter? Misplace something? Or maybe you're just wondering how I got my clothes back? Well..." as if right on cue, a familiar voice boomed from outside.

"Alright, which one of you hooligans took it?!" Jim burst through the door angrily and seemed to eye everyone with suspicion. Jim Morales was the Physical Education Teacher. He was also the campus supervisor, among other seemingly endless amounts of jobs he did at the Academy. But there he stood, in his usual red sweat shirt, a band-aid on his cheek that he never seemed to remove, and a white headband tightly around his forehead.

"Good afternoon, Jim." said Ronnie innocently, "Took what, exactly?" Jim, however, didn't seem amused.

"Don't play dumb, Mr. Richter, my spare uniform! Seems like the kind of prank you'd pull!" he was moving closer to Ronnie and pointing at him in an accusing manner.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Jim, honest. I didn't - Hmm..." Ronnie stopped himself and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "...actually what would explain why I found it there."

"Found what? Spit it out, Ronald!" Jim was getting impatient.

"This." Ronnie produced a small rectangular object from his pocket. It was white and had the name "Jim Morales" printed on it, "It's one of your name tags, right? I found it on the floor in the locker room just before the lunch bell. I was meaning to give it back to you."

"Gimme that," Jim swiped the tag from Ronnie and looked it over, "this is it alright, now cough up the rest of my spare uniform! Where was this tag exactly?"

"Like I said it was on the floor... right in front Brick's locker, now that I think about it." he moved his gaze over to Brick, who now realized what was happening.

"Oh no you don't, Richter! No way you're pinning this on me!" Brick stood up to protest.

"Whatever do you mean by that, Brick?" said Ronnie with a sheepish smile, "Hey! Is what why you were nervously checking your bag a second ago?"

"What?" exclaimed Jim, who rushed over and took Brick's bag before the jock could protest, "Well well well, looks like we have ourselves a smoking gun, as it were." he produced his spare uniform from Brick's bag. Somehow, against all the odds and seemingly against all logic, Ronnie somehow swapped his clothes for Jim's spare uniform. Of course, good luck to Brick or anyone who wanted to try and prove that, "You're coming with me, Francis, we're gonna have ourselves a chat with Mr. Delmas."

"But, no! That's not possible!" Brick protested.

"Why's that, [i]Francis[/i]? Was there supposed to be [i]someone else's[/i] clothes in your bag?" asked Ronnie, who at this point was almost cackling evilly as Jim dragged Brick away to Delmas' office.

Once they were gone, Ronnie practically gave a bow to the cafeteria, like a Magician who just pulled the world's greatest magic trick, "And that, kids, is why you don't mess with the master." Oh sure, Ronnie [i]could[/i] have just directly confronted Brick, he had before. In fact, in probably one of the few times they ever actually came to blows, Ronnie knocked him flat on his butt. He wasn't the founder/president of the Kickboxing Club for nothing, after all. But just starting a fight and then winning without any real effort was no fun at all.

By now he was making his way over to the table were Saya was sitting. No, Ronnie wasn't going through the lunch line, no need to since he [s]smuggled[/s] brought his own food in. It was technically not allowed, but a lot of students did it regardless and no one seemed to care enough to really enforce the rule anyway, "Ah, I love the smell of justice in the afternoon, don't you?" of course, what he called "justice" was probably closer to revenge. But whatever, semantic details.