Someone was smart enough to get another chair and put it across the table. About four full arm lengths away from Linda. This way when he lunged for her throat - and he would, he promised himself he wouldn't but he would - he'd have a bit of jumping distance to swing his weight enough to knock her down and pin her.
"Welcome back, Sans. I trust you got all the less than, ahem, agreeable foodstuffs out of your system?" Linda shot the teacher a strong glare. Which she shrugged off. Sans wished he had that level of ability. Or maybe it was familiarity that gave her this level of tolerance. In which case, he wished he has less of it.
"Getting right back on topic. Saving time in classrooms. What can we suggest, hm?"
"Well, perhaps instead of forcing children to try and keep up with others, we slow down to the pace of the slowest children?"
Ignoring the fact that her answer was entirely contradictory to the previous question, Sans pretended to be half way invested. "Linda. If everything slowed down enough so that your son could understand it, the speed limit would be so low it would justify how late you are to virtually every meeting."
"Look, Sans. Clearly you're a little outraged and I can understand." Linda put her hand over her heart. "I know how hard it must be, lacking humanity, being far from home, and all that."
"I'm sure you do Linda. I'm sure you do."