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Alexander sat in the Italian restaurant, all alone in his paranoia. Quickly he whipped out a pen and scrawled the word "paranoia" on a napkin. While he was at it, he also scribbled down the word "scrawled". Alexander liked to write. He enjoyed nothing more than a piece of blank paper in front of him and a ballpoint pen in his right hand, which was noted by many of Alexander's strangers as being permanently stained a grayish blue color. This hue was to be blamed on the fact that he picked up a little bit of ink and/or graphite residue every time his hand swept over his paper. Alexander would be lost without something to write about, which was a big problem at school. The children there would tease him about his obsession, until it brought him to tears. Later, at home, Alexander would write them into his latest work and kill them off in brutal, bloody ways. "That'll show them," he always thought....

Alexander was disliked by all the teachers, as well. They held a secret meeting to discuss him. Said the english teacher (presently at the head of the table, holding her head in her hands to demonstrate her stress.): "Alex is a very talented writer, but he writes such long stories, I can never find the time to read them all the way through. I have to grade 30 students' work every day, and his takes longer than all the others' combined."
Said the mathematics instructor (third seat away from the english teacher, on her right hand side, sweating profusely as he always did): "He struggles a bit with math, or at least I think he does... I can't really see what he writes down for his answers, because he always has something written on every square inch of paper."
"As your principal," said the principal (who was not, in fact, any teacher's principal because the teachers did not go to school anymore, let alone the school of which HE was principal), "I have a right to call him in to my office and explain to him how we expect him to behave."

The man who was principal of the students, but not principal of the teachers, called Alexander in to his office. Alex took a seat between the open office door and the open window to take advantage of a pleasant cross breeze that swept through the room. The principal began a very long - winded explanation of the school's policies and expectations of him. Alex payed the man no heed whatsoever, until an atrocity of the verbal kind assaulted his ears with the hideousness of its incorrectness. The words "actually, well, or basically" spilled out of the principal's mouth like napalm from the nozzle of a verbal chemical thrower aimed at the core of Alexander's belief system. Alexander interrupted the principal. "Sir, when you say 'actually, well, or basically' together in a sentence, do you actually mean to use them like that, or do you just intend to let perfectly good words be left behind with no significance or contribution to the conversation?"

The principal didn't know what to say. He had been bested by a student, over whom he had nearly endless authority. He Excused Alex, Closed up all the doors and windows in his office, and hung himself with his tie.