Lucy Furr sat outside the principal’s office awaiting her third scolding of the week. This time it was for turning Vara Chiel’s milk into goat’s blood.

She swung her dangling legs back and forth with her hands squished under her thighs, staring blissfully at a far corner where the sterile white walls met the ceiling. One of the school receptionists eyed her suspiciously and whispered little devil to herself. Lucy ripped her gaze from the ceiling and locked eyes with the receptionist. The receptionist quickly looked down at the papers on her desk, making it seem like she had been engrossed in her work. Lucy smiled broadly.

Finally the principal, Mr. Godfried, opened his office door and told a young boy to go back to class. Without saying a word, he ushered Lucy in. She didn’t have to be visually instructed which chair to take – the one she was to sit in might as well have held her imprint in the exhausted cushion.

Mr. Godfried sat behind his desk, folded his hands, and looked Lucy over with a tired expression. His eyes held on the girl’s shirt – a black t-shirt with Ozzy Osbourne written in blood red and dark angel wings underneath. He shook his head and laid his palms flat on the desk.

“Lucy, this is the third time you’ve been in here this week. Never mind the other times over the past few months! Earlier, you turned James’ spaghetti into snakes. Then you thought it’d be a good idea to rebel against your teacher and face your desk towards the back of the room! What are you thinking? And also, what are you wearing? That hardly appears school appropriate, especially for someone in third grade!”

Lucy patiently waited for her turn to speak, then began from the end: “The Great Ozz speaks truth. Don’t you want the student body to always be honest? And come on, Mr.Godfried… He’s the godfather of metal. Don’t hassle me for representing.”

Mr. Godfried arched a brow but let her continue.

“Vara was getting on my nerves because she kept kicking my chair legs while I was trying to concentrate on Ms. Abel’s lecture. I had seen James harassing one of the new kids on the playground the other day. They both had it coming. As for turning my desk around? I thought it’d be funny.”

Mr. Godfried digested this while Lucy sat still with her hands neatly placed on her lap and her lips smiling patiently.

“Well,” the principal began, “there are better ways of handling such situations. Since the deeds are done, I guess there’s no point in going over what you should have done. It has never seemed to help in the past. I can’t suspend you because this new-age school doesn’t allow such a thing. And I can’t discipline you the way I was disciplined in boarding school because I’ll get sacked and you’ll probably put a hell hound in the back seat of my Volvo. What can we do to stop this behavior?”

The same smile stayed on Lucy’s face a moment longer. “Well, Mr. Godfried, we can do nothing and you can like it.”

Lucy pushed back her chair and stood.

“At least change your shirt,” Mr. Godfried pleaded, pointing to a box of old shirts in the corner of his office.

Lucy rummaged through and found an over-sized Peppa Pig t-shirt. She pulled it on over her black shirt and gave the principal a thumbs up. He nodded in defeated approval and let her leave.

Once outside the administrative area, she used a red marker she had snagged from the front desk and wrote over “Peppa” with the words DON’T HASSLE ME. She grinned satisfactorily.

* * *

A few days later, Lucy’s third grade class had recess in the gym due to the storm that had been battering the town since morning. This meant swings were replaced with scooters and kickball was replaced with dodgeball. Lucy normally chose to scoot on a scooter during indoor recess, but this time she opted for dodgeball. Her team was captained by Atarah, the big girl everyone thought was going to grow up to be a pro wrestler.

The game was going well – Lucy was one of the few people left standing near the end of the game, as was her captain. Then it happened: Atarah wound up her big, meaty arm and let the ball rip, aiming for one of the mousy boys on the other side. Instead of hitting him square in the shin which had been her intent, it blasted right into the back of Lucy’s head. Lucy swiveled and gave Atarah a death stare. Atarah only laughed. That was all it took for Lucy to turn Atarah’s head into a red rubber ball.

In the principal’s office, Lucy sat in her chair and Mr. Godfried stared solemnly into her dark nine-year-old eyes.

“Well, as you know, I can’t suspend you. However, I can expel you. That’s what I’m going to have to do. Sorry, Lucy. You can’t turn kids’ heads into rubber balls. It’s unacceptable! I’m going to have to ask you to leave, and please don’t return.”

Lucy walked out of the office, then the school altogether, expressionless. Not a word was spoken and none of her school items were collected before leaving. She threw her expulsion notice in the garbage can by the bus stop and lit it on fire with the snap of her fingers.

Mr. Godfried was halfway home when the hellhound in the back of his Volvo woke up angry and hungry.