“Yeah, I’d heard a ‘dat “Axe You ta Hell”, or wutever dey call’d it. Sum silly command fer dem file cab’nets."

I shook my head, but didn’t interrupt. Pa would dole out a whooping, I was sure, but I didn’t want to give him a reason to use the switch rather than the belt. The principal gave me an expectant glare, a you’ve-made-my-life-hell-so-now-you’ll-get-it look that meant the school was in deep, and that I would be too.

“Mr. Shaw. We aren’t talking about a file cabinet here – we’re talking about an advanced, an important, an expensive piece of robotic machinery. This is the robot that handles all grading for all our students. By decommissioning it, your daughter is costing the school banks of credits in damages.”

Pa whirled at me, his face black, his eyes red. I backed away, which amounted to falling out of my chair. The principal just watched.

“Pa… pa! T’was an accident! Ain’t my fault!”

The principal smirked.

“As if ’; DROP Tables * — was in your essay by accident?!”