Mr. Krupp groaned, rubbing his temples after dealing with those two hooligans, George Beard and Harold Hutchins, for their usual pranks. They were frequent visitors to his office. Ae sat at his desk, reflecting on all the times he yelled at them for their pranks, jokes, wisecracks, and ruining the carefully calibrated drone-like beehive that the elementary school was supposed to be. It gave him a headache.

Finally, he had some quiet time. He pulled out a bottle of aspirin for his headache and swallowed it dry. He looked at the two empty chairs in front of him. His meanness melted into loneliness eventually. Usually he hated children and yet, George Beard and Harold Hutchins were the only children he interacted with. Well, there were the other teachers, staff and students at Jerome Horwitz Elementary.

He hoped the few minutes of quiet would give him some sanity before the next child was sent into his office or his secretary, Miss Anthrope, interrupted him with some stupid message. He hated children, yet he liked having the authority and being able to discipline children. He liked the fear in children's eyes whenever they were sent to his office. How they trembled, even cried when they sat in the chairs in front of his desk. This didn't work on two children: George Beard and Harold Hutchins. They weren't afraid of him. They treated his authority like a joke.

You're a joke, Benny! A big, fat joke! I worry about you, Benny. I worry a lot.

Krupp heard a voice echo in his head from his past. He vowed that when he got older, he wouldn't be a joke. He toughened himself out in his youth to become the man he was today. He wanted obedience, discipline, and authority. He got it. As an elementary school principal.

Loneliness and boredom swept over him and he looked for something to do. He looked over his paperwork, shuffling and organizing it. He went through some files, making everything in his office as neat as he could. Sighing with boredom, he sat in his leather chair. He had nothing else to do...until he saw the drawer that contained things he confiscated from George and Harold.

He bit his lip, quite tempted to read something other than his boring paperwork. Shaking his head to get rid of the feeling, he shuffled through his papers again. And again. And again.

He glanced at the file cabinet. He could hear a child's voice in his mind-which oddly sounded like his own when he was small.

Open me, Benny! Open me!

Mr. Krupp swallowed, feeling the temptation growing stronger. He wondered why he was even considering this. Why would a grown man like himself be interested in 4th grade comic books? He tried to ignore the file cabinet that was calling him again.

Come on, Benny! Don't be shy. Open me! Look through here! You might find something you like.

"Shut up," he said through his clenched teeth.

The file cabinet pouted mockingly. Aww, Benny! Don't be mean. You know you want to read comics. You've always liked them.

"No, I don't," he denied in a singsong voice, still trying to pretend to write on some papers.

Don't pretend you don't want to, Benny. Don't fight it. And you're just pretending to work on your papers because, let's face it, you're bored. You've done everything you needed today.

Mr. Krupp growled, trying to shut out the talking file cabinet. Suddenly, the file cabinet's drawer popped out. Everything that he confiscated George and Harold stood up: they were talking with eyes and mouths. They were full of smiles, laughing and singing. Mr. Krupp glowered with annoyance.

"Come on, Benny!" sang the comic books. "Read us!"

"Play with us!" said some of the toys.

"Shut up! I'm working!" Mr. Krupp said through his teeth.

"You may be a big, mean, scary man, but we all know there's a little boy inside you. Let him come out and play!" the toys teased with giggles. Then they began to chant, "Play with us! Play with us!"

Mr. Krupp covered his ears to drown out the chanting toys and comic books. It was then, the comics had magically floated to his desk and were chanting along with the toys.

"Read us! Read us!"

He shut his eyes, trying to block them out. But the more he tried to shut them out, the temptation was growing more stronger than ever. The toys and comic books were chanting his name, "Benny! Benny! Read us! Play with us!"

"ALRIGHT!" he shouted, pounding the desk with his fists.

When he opened his eyes, his office was just as it was. Everything was quiet. The file cabinet was shut. Mr. Krupp blinked his eyes and shook his head. What just happened?

"Sir?" asked his secretary, Miss Anthrope, who had concerned look on his face. "Did you need something?"

"NO!" he shouted.

Miss Anthrope shut the door, grumbling obscenities under her breath: how he was the worst boss, how she wanted to do horrible things to him and that it would happen someday.

Mr. Krupp sighed, rubbing his temples again. Once again, it was quiet. He glanced at the file cabinet that contained George and Harold's possessions. He looked around the room and checked that the door was firmly shut, he wheeled his chair over and reached with a trembling hand, opening it with effort.

For a moment, he stared at all the toys: everything from a whoopee cushion, slingshots, skateboards, fake doggie doo doo, chattering teeth, super duper soaking machine: a giant squirt gun. You name it, it was in there. He looked them over for a brief moment and tried a few of them, feeling oddly youthful again and began to reminisce about his own childhood. He didn't try the whoopee cushion since it was a noise maker and if there was one thing he didn't want was to draw any attention.

He tried the skateboard and started to wobble uneasily. The board bowed under his weight, making Mr. Krupp feel very embarrassed. He had always promised himself to lose weight, but never got around to it. It was when the skateboard started to roll a bit from is unsteady gait, he got off it quickly for fear of falling down. Given he was 230 lbs and him falling off a skateboard would be very embarrassing: he'd imagine the ground would shake and a loud thud would alert Miss Anthrope. She would find her boss laying on the ground, surrounded by the confiscated toys and make the assumption that he was playing with them. He imagined her spreading the rumor around the school and every teacher would laugh at him. Heck, he could see the students at Jerome Horowitz Elementary laughing at a 40-year-old fat principal for playing with toys.

You're a joke, Benny! A big, fat joke!

Shaking his head, he put the toys back in the drawer and turned his attention to the comic books. He figured it'd be a better idea than trying the skateboard. Stacking the comics neatly on his desk, he started with the first one.

The comics were poorly spelled by George Beard and the roughly drawn pictures by Harold Hutchins. Of course, it was just some bald man in his underwear that flew around and fought truth, justice and all that is pre-shrunk and cottony. He had to admit they were completely implausable, juvenile and completely filled with the lowest form of wit called potty humor, yet he could feel a strange tickle in his throat...his body began to wiggle as the tickle followed. Was he...

...laughing?

Mr. Krupp never laughed unless it involved seeing a child in trouble. He laughed whenever he plotted for exposing George and Harold and punishing for their antics. But why was he laughing at these kiddy comics? Why? It made no sense!

Biting his lip back from laughter, he continued to read George and Harold's comics. While reading, it did bring back a childhood memory of himself. Mr. Benjamin Krupp was once a boy who liked to imagine and read comics like other kids. He remembered hiding under his covers at night with a flashlight and spend hours reading comic books, most of them were superheroes like Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman. He'd tie a towel around his neck and pretend to be a superhero.

The warm memories of his childhood flooded his mind. It actually made him smile...Mr. Krupp never smiled unless it involved the suffering of a child. Why? What was going on with him?

"I worry about you, Benny," said a cruel voice began to echo. "I worry a lot."

Mr. Krupp found himself a young boy named Benjamin or "Benny" as he was called, looking into the cold eyes of his mother as she held his beloved comic books.

"Mom! No!" he cried.

"Reading this trash! Come on, Benny! Grow up!" the stern voice of his mother, Bernice, spoke. "You're supposed to be a man! Not reading these!"

Benny watched in horror as his mom tore them up into little pieces. Benny felt tears pricking his eyes. He bit his lip, trying to keep himself from crying.

"And take that stupid cape off!"

Next his cape was torn off his shoulders, tossed across the room. Benny lowered his head, trying to hide that he was crying. Tears were already streaming down Benny's pudgy cheeks. His body shook hard. He started to whimper.

"Stop crying, dammit!"

Benny began to cry as he looked at his destroyed comic books in the trash. He couldn't help it. His mother didn't like anything really. She worked on a farm and expected Benny to work as well with the cows until suppertime. She teased Benny for being fat, a sissy for reading comics or playing make-believe. She made Benny feel worthless.

"I worry about you, Benny," said his mom. "I worry a lot."

"Why?" asked Benny. "Why do you worry about me?"

"Because...all this make believe and reading comics isn't going to get you anywhere in life. You need to grow up. You need to learn to be a man, dummy. You look like a damn fool running around with a cape on and reading comics. You should be playing sports and doing manly things and helping me with the cows."

"I'm no good at them..." Benny said.

"Of course not!" said his mother, laughing. "Cuz you're a joke. A big, fat joke. You can't even keep up with the kids. Get outside and get to work on those cows! Maybe you'll lose some pounds."

Mr. Krupp was interrupted by the intercom on his desk and returned to the present; his eyes felt wet like he did as a child. He brushed them away, embarrassed, feeling his heart hardening again.

"Mr. Krupp," said the voice of Miss Anthrope on the other end. "George and Harold are back to see you."

"Again?" he said outloud, exasperated.

He fumbled to hide the comics in his desk so no one would know the truth. That he read George and Harold's comics. He put on a frown to look scary and intimidating. He pressed the button to the intercom and spoke in an authoritarian voice:

"Send them in, Miss Anthrope..."