A/N- there are some intentional grammar errors in this story, as many of the characters are very young.

Randall was in a very, very bad mood. Not only was he banished from Monstropolis, but he was also forced to do community service. With little kids. Great.

He never did understand why anyone would willingly take this position known as 'pre-school teacher,' but then again, he was being forced into it. Maybe everytone else was, too.

Unwillingly, Randall pushed the door open, only to have his tail grabbed a second later. A four-year-old boy with his finger up his nose stood yanking on the purple tail.

"Hey, let go, nosepicker!" Randall screamed, unsuccessfully attempting to shake the kid off.

"Me no named nosepicker," the kid said, eyes wide with curiosity as to why the new teacher was purple. "My name is Mike."

Mike. Ugh, that name will always remind Randall of his irritating, unieyed co-worker.

"Yeah, I think I'll just call you Bob," Randall replied, walking away.

In the corner, two kids were throwing Play-Dough at each other. Mike grabbed a handful and ran oveer to Randall. "Eat it!" he shreiked. "I dare you. You can't say no to a dare!"

"Oh, yes, I can!" Randall yelled, taking the Play-Dough and throwing it out the window, where it hit an innocent old lady in the head. Randall shrugged. He couldn't worry about lawsuits now. He had a group of children who were attempting poisionings on his scaly hands!

So he did what any logical pre-school teacher who didn't want their students to end up on America's Most Wanted would do: he showed them just how awful prision was, and how they should avoid it at all costs. How was this accomplished? By locking them all in cages.

Besides the screaming, all was peaceful for the next few hours. And, okay, not letting the kids out for 'potty time,' as they called it, was a very smelly mistake. But other than that, Randall thought he was a genius!

While he was preparing himself for the talk shows on which he was certain to appear on for the discovery of this new childcare technique, some of the parents arrived to pick up their children.

One of the mothers literally screamed. She unlocked the cages, and dug arround in her purse for her cell phone. Randall smiled, grateful that she was so excited- surely that was what her loud reaction meant- for this breakthrough that she was calling the newspapers. His smile slid off once he heard her conversation.

"Hello? 911?"


Randall did not enjoy jail. To add insult to injury, Mike came to visit.

"Don't you remember what you taught us? You told us never to get arrested You hypocritical poopface!"

The guards dragged him awayas he continued to scream what Randall assumed were little kid swear words, like 'ploopy*' and 'raspberry plastic tickle bear*.'

Randall made a mental note to, if he ever was enlisted to teach pre-school again, get arrested again. At least no one tried to force-feed him Play-Dough while in jail.

*From Diary of a Wimpy Kid. I own nothing.