Rimmer crept into the detention hall, not wanting anyone to notice his torn blazer, or his shoes, which were going moldy from all the time they spent in the pond. There weren't that many other students there, so Rimmer found a desk a safe distance from any possible taunting. He slid into his desk, thinking he was home free, but then he heard footsteps approaching, the art teacher. Rimmer wished he were invisible, he'd already been bawled out by both the history and maths masters. The teacher put a hand on his shoulder and shoved a piece of paper under his nose. Rimmer saw that it was one of his colour coded time tables, and he hung his head. She'd probably give him extra detention for not doing the assigned art project. He barely heard what she was saying, he was too preoccupied with imagining how his parents would punish him for yet another detention. The art teacher gave his shoulder a pat and Rimmer's stomach plummeted, he had'nt hear a word she'd said, he'd really catch it now. He strained to catch her parting words and to his surprise he heard her say "You may have a future in the Arts, Arnold." When she'd left the room, Arnold, stunned, looked down at what she'd written on his time table. "Excellent use of colour, keep up the good work Arnold!" As he read and reread those words, a strange and unfamiliar feeling came over Rimmer, and it took him a moment to realise what it was. He was happy! He was proud of himself! After detention he ran home as fast as he could, time table in hand, and burst in the front door. He ran into the living room to show his parents. He handed the time table to his father proudly. His father looked at it and said, "Good work?! I didn't think it did work! Cause you're still bloody hopless at your lessons boy! What's the good of a time table besides to help you study? And I won't have a lazy, good for nothing artist in the family you little git, now get upstairs and study." With a disgusted look, Mr. Rimmer threw the time table into the fire. And Rimmer, with a backward glance at his colorful timetable burning up in the flames, truged upstars, usless once again.