I wish I owned the character Sam. But alas...

The two walk in the classroom and by a snoozing teacher with her head on her desk. They take their seats.

"Oh, Randy…" she mumbles in her sleep, "Yes, of course I will be your wife. I will be Mrs. Francine Jackson." She hugs a pencil jar to her chest, cuddling it.

The class laughs as they watch the drowsy Ms. Briggs spill her secrets. She wakes up with a snorting snore. Her jerky movements from sudden awakening knock the jar bouncing – the pencils fly everywhere: one lands on her hair. "Ahh! Ambush!" She screams, not fully awake.

"Look out Ms. Briggs! They're coming right after you!" Sam exclaims, loosening up her previous sour mood.

She shrieks in panic hitting more pencils, some sheets of paper, and a stapler. A couple of the pencils fall to the floor, including the stapler with a thud. The papers scatter around. "What? What?! Somebody help!"

"Sam!" Carly whispers loudly, jabbing her side for fooling with the teacher.

Ms. Briggs wakes up fully. She hears Carly and stares directly at Sam. "Young lady! You did this mess!"

"Uh, no Ms. Briggs!" Sam yells in protest, caught off guard by the accusation.

"It's true. Sam didn't sabotage your desk… this time." Carly adds in defense.

"Ah! So I presume it was Gibby, then, was it?" She says sarcastically, used to Sam usually blaming him.

"Wha- me?" Gibby asks in surprise, pointing to himself.

"But I-I…" Sam stutters.

"Principal's office! Now!" Ms. Briggs orders sternly.

"Aww." Sam frowns as she swings her backpack on. She looks at Carly.

"Sorry." Carly whispers, empathizing.

"Eh. I'm used to it." Sams says defeatedly.

"Now, Ms. Puckett!" Ms. Briggs points to the door.

"I'm leaving, I'm leaving." She tells her sullenly.

--

"Hey, Ted." Sam smiles as she enters his office, trying to be friendly, hoping to get a light sentence.

He looks at her with a flat expression.

"I mean Principal Franklin." She sits down.

"Nice to see you again... Let's get this over with quickly. Why are you here?" He asks her, tired of the routine.

"No reason." Sam twiddles with her thumbs, bored out of her mind, equally as tired.

"I see. So there is a reason." He establishes, looking at her, waiting for an answer.

"I'm serious this time. Ms. Briggs fell asleep at her desk and kept flailing around bumping her stuff on the table. Then she blamed me when she woke up 'cause Carly said my name!"

"And why did Carly do that?" He questions calmly.

"Because... uh, I kind of got Ms. Briggs dreaming she was being attacked. Which is why she... flailed her arms... and stuff," Sam admits.

"Uh huh. And why did you do that?" He bends his arms and rests his chin on his hands.

"To... have fun? I was just playing around." Sam grins optimistically.

"Not on school property. And especially not with a teacher. You're here not to harass teachers, but to respect them. You're in school to-"

"To learn. Yeah, I know." She rolls her eyes.

"Correct. So, you were sent here for the wrong reason, but your action lead to what she did."

"Yeah, I guess." Sam shrugs.

"Why was she sleeping?" He asks.

"I don't know. I was last to make it to class."

"Of course. Well, I'll talk to her about that. In the meantime..." he gets up, "You have detention twice this week for what you did. Come after school today and on Friday."

"On Friday too?! Why not just put my hand in a blender?" She cries.

"Then don't do it again. That's all I can say." He goes to the door gesturing her out. "Go back to class. See you at detention."

"Yeah. And tomorrow." Sam leaves despondently. Her day just keeps getting worse and worse.