Ah, poor Burl. A, B, C, D, E, F. All those letters his mom didn’t have the heart to explain to him, particularly F. How could a mother tell her son, looking down at her with those beady eyes set in that whiny, pudgy face, that all those F letters meant he wasn’t going to move into the 4th grade again even though he did have his driver’s license and was 5’ 9" tall. Or about his teacher’s comments on the Report Card that he was a "D-I-P—S-H-*-T and unsuitable for conversion into soylent green.
Ah, poor Burl. A, B, C, D, E, F. All those letters his mom didn’t have the heart to explain to him, particularly F. How could a mother tell her son, looking down at her with those beady eyes set in that whiny, pudgy face, that all those F letters meant he wasn’t going to move into the 4th grade again even though he did have his driver’s license and was 5’ 9" tall. Or about his teacher’s comments on the Report Card that he was a "D-I-P—S-H-*-T and unsuitable for conversion into soylent green.