And here he comes now. All 274 pounds of him. He is the last one any of us wants to meet, but we all know that someone is going to have to do it. We all just try desparately to avoid being the one unlucky one. Keep your back straight, eyes foward, hands cupped, all the things we are supposed to do, in the hope that he will see our appearence as satisfactory, not worth destroying with all the blind fury he has waiting to be released. But no matter what, one would not be good enough.

After he slowly strode back and forth in front of us for a bit, eying each of us with a look of disgust and anger, he finally selected a target, and began his approach. Everyman he passed looked as though a massive weight had been lifted from them, for they knew they were safe, safe from what was about to happen to one of thier fellow basics. And after a bit of this mean stride, he clicked his heals to a halt, turned swiftly and smartly, and stared his poor subject in the eyes. Me. Oh no…