[h2][color=598527]Chester Jones[/color][/h2]

September 5th, 1969.
0745 HRs

	Chester sat in his Studebaker '51 at the crosswalk in front of the school. There were at least fifteen students before him, at least two of which he considered a menace. It wouldn't be difficult, the kids before him had no reason to believe a stopped car at a crosswalk had any reason to cease being stopped, especially considering that the man behind the wheel was their vice principal, it would be all too easy.

	Chester entered the parking lot of the school without incident, as he had been doing for the past few years of his life, and would continue to do for the foreseeable future. He pushed open the door, stumbled out (he never wears his seatbelt), and vomited into a bush. After calming his nerves, he pulled the worn leather briefcase from his car, then shut the door, making sure to lock it.

0805 HRs

	"Kostashe!" echoed through the halls of the building, bringing a sense of nausea to all who heard it. Mr. Jones came lumbering down the hall with long strides and a look of anger on his face. Vice Principal Jones was becoming a real hardass lately. Some of the students speculated that he may have regained the will to live, but most didn't like those odds. Jones stepped right up to Nick, pointing a chubby finger at his chin.

	"Listen, buster, I told you to mop the floors, didn't I? I want you to explain to me why Jake Watson's telling me the second I get through the doors that you're smoking LSD in the women's bathroom!" Before Nick could retort, Chester continued, "You know what? Don't even try to give me an excuse. From now on and until the end of the year, you will come to school at 7am and report directly to my office. You will spend break and lunch in my office, and you will not leave the building until you sign out at my office, understand me? Good." Chester flicked the cigarette off Nick's ear, then turned around and walked away. A grin slowly spread across his face. It was nice to blow some steam.