Billy and the Passionfruit, Part 3 of 7.

Disclaimer: Belong to me, this story does not. Hear it somewhere, I did.

Billy's eyes were fixed upon the fly buzzing around his head. Ever so slowly, he brought up his Electrodeath electric fly-swatter and positioned it just so... and swung wildly.

He missed.

The fly-swatter hit the coat-rack, which toppled and landed on the bed, which wobbled, causing the basketball to bounce upwards, allowing it to be caught in the ceiling fan, which nearly malfunctioned, nonetheless resulting in the basketball being eviscerated, causing basketball shreds to fly everywhere, knocking over the table lamp, the plushie toy, and the alarm clock. The alarm clock fell to the ground and a battery rolled out, squashing a nearby caterpillar which would later be the key to unlocking the secrets of the universe. Thus humankind never discovered the true meaning of life. But that is another story.

Eureka! Billy suddenly thought. I know! I'll draw a passionfruit!

Billy was energized by his new idea. He raced down to the fridge and searched its deepest, darkest recesses and finally found what he was looking for - a shiny round passionfruit. He hugged it close to his chest. Billy grabbed a few crayons and a piece of paper and started drawing.

And drawing.

Billy drew the passionfruit for the whole night. And when he went to bed he had dreams of shiny bathtubs flying through space, with singing passionfruits scrubbing themselves inside them and an orange caterpillar bounding across the moon.

The next morning, Billy was in school bright and early. He smiled widely around the classroom until he realized it was empty. So he smiled at the whiteboard, and the tarantula, and the colourful posters.

Ten minutes later, Billy folded his hands and continued smiling.

Class started another half-hour later. By this time the other children had filed in. They quietly seated themselves at the front, although those nearest to Billy looked tense and apprehensive, and those farther away looked relieved. Billy thought this was strange.

"Alright, class!" said the teacher jovially. "Who wants to show me their homework assignment from yesterday?"

"Oooh! Me! Me!" yelled Billy immediately, waving his hand in the air.

"Okay, Billy," said the teacher, shooting him a disturbed glance. "What have you drawn?"

Billy produced his work with a proud flourish.

"Oh, very nice, Billy," said the teacher pleasantly. "But... what is it?"

"It's a passionfruit, ma'am," Billy said. He flourished his drawing again for good measure.

The students froze. The teacher froze. "Wh-wh-what did you say it was?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"A passionfruit, ma'am," Billy said again. He beamed proudly.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the teacher's face turned red and blotchy with anger. "Passionfruit?" she said. "PASSIONFRUIT? HOW DARE YOU SAY PASSIONFRUIT?" she shrieked.

She took a deep breath to calm herself down. "Go immediately to the principal's office," she said. She ushered Billy outside the classroom and hastily slammed the door.

Billy was bewildered. He didn't know what he had done wrong. So he trotted merrily along the hallway until he realized that he didn't know where the principal's office was.

Billy scratched his head. He scratched his chin. He also scratched the back of his neck because it was itchy. He then decided that he would just have to find the principal's office.

Billy wandered and wandered and wandered, until finally he came upon a smooth brown-black wooden door that looked different to all the other doors. "Prin-ci-puls of-ice," he read from the gold-embossed letters at the top. "Yep! This must be it!" he said happily. He pushed open the door.

The principal was a large, balding man with three double-chins, coarse hairy hands and a big (but friendly) red face. At this moment he was working on solving a difficult logistical problem on his computer. But he turned towards the door immediately when it opened.

"Ah!" he said genially, eyeing his diminutive visitor. "A student! What may I do for you, my lad?"

Billy was happy to see that the principal was so friendly. "Well sir," he said, "I was in class, see, and-"

"Wait!" the principal interrupted. "Your name is Billy, am I right?"

Billy was surprised. "Why, yessir, it is," he said. He beamed at the friendly principal.

"I met your mother just yesterday! What a coincidence!" the principal chortled.

"Haha, yes, a cons-dense!" Billy said happily.

The principal laughed. Billy laughed. A bird chirped gaily outside.

"Anyway, back to business," the principal said, suddenly serious. "What were you trying to say?"

"Oh, right, yessir," Billy said, remembering his manners. "I was in class and I showed the teacher my drawing of a passionfruit and for some reas-"

The principal cut Billy off. His three double chins convulsed in shock. His large red face turned purple. "D-d-did you just say" - his voice dropped to a whisper - "passionfruit?"

Billy nodded vigorously.

The principal gasped. "Passionfruit?" he cried. "PASSIONFRUIT? HOW DARE YOU SAY PASSIONFRUIT? That's it! I'm expelling you, you insolent little brat!" The principal lifted his bulky form from his chair, opened the window and single-handedly threw Billy out.

"And never come back!" he yelled, slamming the window shut. Angry spittles of saliva rained all over Billy.

The principal took a deep breath to calm himself down. When he was sufficiently relaxed, he returned to his game of Solitaire.

To be continued...