>Middle school
>Pretty normal kid named Lewis
>Average number of friends, not too weird, not too smart, you get the idea
>Get assigned project on future careers
>His turn
>He leaves the room
>Comes back with a box
>There are hundreds of turtles in the box
>Literally hundreds
>He trips
>The box spills
>Little turtles fucking everywhere
>What the actual fuck
>He starts FREAKING. OUT. about the little turtles escaping
>Literally bursts into tears
>His dad is a herpetologist and they're his turtles
>Lewis stole the turtles
>None of the turtles escape because they're turtles, we just pick them up and put them back it's not like they can run fast
>Teacher tells me to take him to the office so they can call his dad and pick up the turtles
>He wont stop crying
>Actually has a seizure on the way to the office
>Spills turtle box again, all down the stair well
>Falls down the stairs with them
>Splits his scalp open, hits his face
>Turtles and blood everywhere
>If you don't reply to this post your mother will die in her sleep tonight.
>I have to run up and down three flights of stairs and collect the turtles while Lewis is unconscious
Teachers later ask why I helped the turtles and not Lewis. I still don't know.
