

SCHOOL DISTRICT DEPARTMENT HEADS
K-8 Learning - Ellen Mentory
Student Discipline - Ewell B. Sorry
District Meetings - Haywood Jalissenup
Accelerated Learning - Rush N. Threwit
School Hall Pass Policies - Frieda Roam
Personnel - Hyram N. Fyrem
Retirement Planning - Ken I. Gonow
Food Services - Eaton B. Urpy
K-12 Class Size - Phil M. Up
Summer Staff Development - Rex R. Fun
Literacy Programming - Rita Lott
Student Attendance - Hugo Taskool
Instructional Budgets - Les Phunding
Peer Coaching - Eileen Onjou
Student Retention Planning - Holden M. Back
Student Promotion Planning - Skip Ahedd
Staff Development Planning - Annie Fadwilldue
Curriculum - Sam Olstuff
School Health Services - Sharon Jerms
Success for All - Howie Gunnadothat
Purchase Order Permissions - U. Ken Knot
Playgrounds - Rick Reyation
Legislative Lobbying - Paul O'ticks
State Audit Bookkeeping - Warren Trubelnow
Disaster Preparedness - Justin Case
District Paperwork - Wayne Heerdeep
PRIVATE EYE It was another rainy day and I sat in my office cooling my heels. I was feeling sorry for myself - thinking I was nothing but a second rate, second grade snoop. It had been a tough week in the private eye business. My luck had been lousy. Then Jeremy Lessard knocked on my door.
Everyone knew Lessard. He had the worst breath in the second grade. And he was mercilessly teased about it. He also was a tattler. That made him one of the most bullied kids in the state. I opened the office door and he lunged for me and grabbed me by my windpipe.
I don't usually carry a piece, but today I had one, and I pulled it on Lessard. "Here kid," I told him, "Chew on this."
It was spearmint gum and he took it and chewed it. Good thing too, his breath was killing me. "Now back off, kid," I told him, "And tell me what's bugging you."
Lessard had bully trouble. I wished I had a dime for every bully case that had been dropped in my lap. It was always bullies. Sometimes it was dames, but not very often at our age. Anyway, he wanted me to do something about it. He wanted the bully off his back, and bad. I had nothing going at the time, and I felt kind of sorry for the foul-breathed punk. I told him I'd look into the case, but I made no promises.
Lessard's bully was a thug named Monk. Monk was big for his age and probably wore husky sizes. He liked picking on the most pathetic kids. I had seen him in action a few times. It was sickening the way he seemed to get his kicks making them cry. I tailed Monk for a few days to see what I could learn about him. Then I staked out his house. There was some good stuff there, so I decided to dig some more. I phoned his family members and asked lots of personal questions. The dopes fell for my phony "market research" con. They told me more than I ever wanted to know about Monk. And they're probably still waiting for that truckload of prizes I promised them.
Monk was history now. I had the goods on him. And I was itching to get away from this nasty business. I pulled together the dirt I had and I was planning to dump it all in Lessard's lap. Then I realized that it was too hot for Lessard - and that it was dirt that could probably help other kids too.
Instead, I made copies of everything and squirreled away the originals. I pulled together a folder of evidence for Monk. I sent him some photos, some transcripts, and a list of dates. Then I typed a letter to Monk.
"Monk," it read, "We know all about you now. We know the last time you wet your bed. We know the last time you had a bathroom accident. We know the last time you cried. We know every stupid pet name your family has ever called you.
We even know your embarrassing middle name. The next time you bully a kid - any kid - it all comes out. And everyone will know about the real Monk. Do you want that? Think about it Monk. Think about it long and hard."
Well, that was the end of Monk. I haven't heard anything about him since then. I guess he left town. I have seen Lessard a few times, though. I've done jobs on some other bullies for him and his friends. And when word hit the street about my bully work, business really picked up. Every bullied kid on this side of town is banging down my door. I'm rolling in the dough now. But this is dangerous work and I'm watching my back. I have to. Just last week I had a bathroom accident. And I cried about it.

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