The bad boys, Estebitan and Felisín, sit opposite Miss Vera. They look like they’ve never broken a plate in their lives, but they’re not fooling anyone. You can’t trust them; they were probably already watching porn when they were eight. … on his cell phone and betting on Ilya Topuria in the UFC fights. Miss Vera, on the other side of the table, looks at them, tired and compassionate. She has the air of an old teacher. She is suppressing the desire to take out her ruler and hit them both hard on the tips of their fingers, but she knows that the new pedagogy prohibits physical punishment and childish frustrations and she is content with reading them the riot act again: “Estebitan, Felisín, you have not done your homework for five years, if you continue being so lazy, tomorrow you will not be useful men but ministers or pimps.”
Estebitan doesn’t know what excuses to make anymore. Seven times the dog has eaten his homework and four times his grandmother has died! The previous teacher, Mr. Reynders, lost his patience one day and ended up throwing the bottle of Lady Grecian he had just bought at their heads. Those two rascals only had to take a sheet of paper and each write the name of ten friends. It wasn’t that difficult, damn it! Miss Vera thinks that education in Spain is very bad. What a pair of guys they’ve sent to Brussels!
This Tuesday, however, the two of them arrived and, very formally, they finally delivered the list with the ten friends they want to invite to the General Council of the Judiciary, the fashionable chiquipark in Madrid, with its enormous ball pool. Miss Vera smiles and gives them some strawberry sugus. Then, relieved, she sends them to hell.
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