Buxton - Dictated by Dr. James "Swiss Army Knife" Johnson, PhD Disclaimer: He is not a certified physician. - Typed by Josiah "Scrub-a-Dub" Johnson

A few things you know about me: I stole sombreros, I escaped from prison, and I was an elementary school inspector. But what happened in between? I'm the reason they don't use elementary school inspectors. I don't know why. I thought I did an exquisite job, keeping strict policies and lots of physical punishment. Some call it abuse. I call it the future. After breaking from prison, I went into a massive trial. I was found innocent when the sombrero man admitted his crimes. I still had to serve two more years there for attacking guards viciously with yoyos, damaging property, and theft. Who knew any of that was illegal? So after my two year term, I went job hunting. I was driving my Sherman tank one day (sort of frowned upon by law enforcement), when I ran into a principle. Quite literally. His car was totaled. Mine wasn't. It's a freakin' tank. So, he got mad, and I offered to pay all the expenses for a brand new car anywhere up to $100,000. That's a lot more than his was worth. He was interested. We went to lunch to discuss the matter, when the fact arose that, no, I did not have $100,000. I gave him my tank. He was thrilled. I landed a job. Then things got... out of hand. That job went out the door. Soon after, I went to his place for dinner, uninvited. He was startled to find me kicking his stove. He gathered himself and asked what was wrong with it. I replied, "Nothing. It's fun." He kicked me out. Then, I went to his garage and took the tank. Good thing I always keep a spare set of keys of all of my previous vehicles. Neat, huh? So, I took the tank and plowed down his garage, then drove through the elementary schools in town while they were empty. People got mad. Nobody knew it was me, though. The principle is the only one who suspected it, but he couldn't talk, because he had been illegally driving the tank. I thought the situation rather scrumtrulescent from my point of view. I sold the tank online, receiving a grand total of $98,000. I strolled into another town the next day in my new Mustang (I had money to blow), and came upon an elementary that was hiring teachers. I went inside without being allowed, and scornfully scorned every teacher that deserved a scorning, then handed out whoopings like hot cakes. The moral of this story? There isn't one. Enjoy.