The next day, Quigley and I were waiting at a table in the cafeteria. Isadora was nowhere to be found.

I looked at my watch. "Where is she?" Quigley asked. "Is she really this excited about the contest?"

I heard the door open, and I saw Isadora, carrying her knapsack, shove her way inside.

"Get outta my way," Izzy snapped, pushing some guy with a milk carton away. His carton went flying, and landed unsuccessfully. It was already opened, and it splattered across the floor.

"Thanks a lot, Isadora," the kid, I recognized as Denny from my science class remarked. He crouched and grimaced in disgust, watching the milk flow across the open.

"Any time, antedennyluvian," she snapped, heading for our table.

"She doesn't look too excited," I said.

She sat down. "What's wrong with you?" I asked. "You're acting like a savage pit-bull mutt."

She glared at me. "You want to know what's wrong with me. YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME?"

"What's wrong with you?" Klaus said, as he, Violet and Sunny sat down.

She roared like a lion for about five minutes straight. "You wanna know what's wrong? I'll tell you what's wrong. I've been discriminated against by a sexist!"

Violet gasped. Quigley, Klaus and I had shocked expressions. Sunny looked confused.

"I don't get it," she said. "What do you mean, Isadora?"

"You're telling her this time, Violet," Klaus said, forking in his king-sized omelet. "I'm not going to be Sunny's official term teacher."

Violet sighed. "Sunny, someday you're just going to have to know what these things mean," she said. "I know you're only a young child, but you have to start somewhere. We won't always be around to explain things to you."

"But what does it mean?" Sunny asked.

"Well, in Isadora's case, the person collecting the poems for the contest wouldn't accept hers because she's a girl," Violet explained. "Isadora, did any other girls turn in poems?"

"I don't think so," Isadora said.

"Was the teacher male or female?" Quigley asked.

"Well, it wouldn't make much sense if it was a female teacher, would it?" Izzy quipped.

"Well, who was the teacher, anyway?" I asked.

"Mister Appleby," she said through clenched teeth. "Mister Clyde Terrence Fcking Appleby."

"Isadora Katherine Quagmire!" Quigley cried. Violet covered Sunny's ears.

"So what?" she snorted. "What do you mean, so what?" I yelled. "You let Sunny watch two movies that are too explicit in violence for her maturity level practically unaccompanied, and now you swear in front of her! I'm ashamed of you. We're all ashamed."

Isadora sighed. "Sorry, Sunny, all of you," she said. "But I'm just so mad. Can't I report it to the new Vice-Principal?"

"From the looks of how he runs the place," I said, looking around, seeing a mini-food fight start at a table at the far end of the cafeteria, "I doubt Mr. Elyas Finch Verne will care."

"I doubt anyone will care," said a sniveling voice. We turned to see Pierce Farms standing over us.

"Go away, Farms," Isadora said. "We're not in the mood."

"Don't worry, I'm not here to bother you all," he said. Then he jabbed a finger into Quigley's chest. "28 days," he said. "You wanna give it back now and be let off the hook, or do you wanna die, Quagmire?"

"Let him alone," Klaus said. "Let him alone," Pierce mimicked.

Klaus grinned. "Were you in any way related to Nero Tyrannous? I heard you weren't at his funeral. What a caring relative you are!"

We all cracked up at that. "Shut up Baudelaire," Pierce growled. "This doesn't in any way concern you." He turned back to Quigley. "28 days. Remember that."

"You remember that you tried to come at me with your little knife, and I kicked the bloody crap outta you," said a deep voice.

We all turned around. It was John Hermann. He was a buff, and by buff I don't mean fat. I mean muscular. As in strong. As in bodybuilding.

Anyway, he was a couple inches taller than Pierce yet his same age. "Beat it, Hermann," Pierce said, his voice cracking. "None of this concerns you."

"It will concern me if you don't move," John said stiffly. "I need to get something from Duncan."

I had elbowed John in class the day before and said at breakfast the next day I needed to talk to him.

Pierce reluctantly moved, but made threatening gestures at Quigley on the way to his seat.

"Let's talk over by the trashcan," I suggested.

"Yeah?" John said when we were safely away from the table. "What'd you want yesterday?"

"I want you to keep an eye on Quigley," I said.

He frowned. "Your triplet brother? Why?"

"Did you see how Pierce was threatening him back there?" I asked.

"You're afraid of Pierce Farms?" John asked incredulously. "Did the anesthetic they gave you in the emergency freeze part of your brain or something? Pierce is all talk. You know he couldn't do anything to your brother. He'd get expelled."

"But that's just it," I said. "I don't think our new Vice-Principal, Mr. Verne, really cares. The other day he walked right past a kid being thrown up against a locker and his money demanded of. He did absolutely nothing. Besides, what if Pierce and Quigley were alone in the locker room one day after Quigley didn't give him back his supposed Axe, after the thirty-day period?"

"If that's what you're afraid of," John said, "I'll keep an eye out for him in the locker-room, and bathroom too. But I don't think you have much to worry about, Duncan. Pierce may be able to talk big, but he can't back it up, or at least well. I speak from experience."

"Was that what you were talking about back there?" I asked.

John nodded. "One day, Pierce thought I took his cell phone. It was missing for a long time, and I had the exact same type. He said if I didn't return it in thirty days, he'd kill me."

He chuckled. "To this day I can't believe he even tried against me. The big day finally came, and we were in the locker-room, see. Just as he prepared, the gym teacher waltzed in and yelled, 'Boys! Hurry up and get out! One minute!' So Pierce said, 'Just you wait, Hermann. Tomorrow's another day.'"

I was listening intently. "So what he do?" I asked urgently. "Time's running out. Class starts in ten minutes."

"Nothing," John replied. "At least, not for a while. He kept on saying, 'Tomorrow I'll get you, Big John. Tomorrow. Wanna talk to a preacher?' He said corny stuff like that. But it was three months later that he attempted it. We were in the locker-room. Just the two of us. I was stripping my shirt off, and digging my gym shirt out of my duffel bag. I saw out the corner of my eye, Pierce with his knife, coming at me slowly."

"Weren't you scared?" I interrupted.

John shook his head. "I whirled around and said, 'Pierce, you might as well drop that blade. You're not gonna do anything.' And he said, 'Don't think so, Hermann? Watch me.' And you know what I did?"

"You grabbed his neck and stuffed him inside a locker?" I asked. John shook his head.

"You used him for a new skateboard?" I asked. John shook his head again.

"Then what'd you do?" I asked. "I walked closer," John said. Pierce backed a foot away, then stood his ground. 'You're askin' for it, Hermann,' he said. He held the blade closer. Then I slammed my heavy duffel bag into his stomach and punched him in the face. The knife went flying across the room, and I caught it. 'Pierce, I could put you out of my problems,' I said. 'You've been tormenting me for four months. I don't have to take it anymore. I could kill you right now and be done with it.' He stared at me with big eyes.' Then you know what I did?"

I shook my head. I honestly didn't know.

"I broke it in half," John said. "By the handle, I mean. And I threw it in the trash. I won the war, Duncan. And I wasn't afraid the whole time."

My face grew red. "Well, you're wrong," I said crossly. "Quigley isn't stronger than him. Were you in the locker-room that one day, seeing Pierce duke it out with Quigley?"

John nodded.

"Quigley was getting whipped!" I said. "If I hadn't shown up, I don't know what would have happened."

"Duncan, it's not about how much stronger or weaker Quigley is than Pierce," John said. "But it is about how strong Quigley is mentally. If he can think right, he won't have to worry about fighting Pierce. Battle and war are two different things, Duncan. Quigley doesn't have to win the battle to win the war."

"Don't talk like that," I said.

"I don't mean it like that," John said. "That doesn't mean he'll die or anything. But it does mean he doesn't have to fight to win the war. Not all wars have to be fought to be won. Think about it."

He left, as did the rest of us as we headed off to class. I thought.

I just thought you guys should know I won't be updating till at least Friday or Saturday. Maybe even next week. I'm going to church summer camp today. Usually, when I return from camp, I'm really moody about the Internet. One minute I'll feel like updating. The next I'm like, "Nah, not today, I'm still pretty tired. I'll watch T.V. or something." See what I mean? It's not that I don't like you guys. If I didn't, I wouldn't publish such magnificent stories on FFN. laughs It's pretty strange how moody I am when I get back, but I'm updating now, so…