Mr. Jones The power of a teacher should never be underestimated – even by students. For those who know Mr. Jones, the title says it all. For all those who do not, allow me to give this brief introduction: He was the teacher that everyone talked about. He was short. He wore thick black rimmed glasses complete with a white lab coat and a colorful bow tie. His gray hair and expressionless face presented a sort of authoritative look to anyone who saw him. And see him, we did! You could spot him immediately in a crowd. This may have been due to the fact that students who knew him generally tried not to stand to close for fear of electrocution! It was true. He electrocuted his own students. But more about that later. I can still recall the first day of class. Mr. Jones introduced his class rules to us. It was simple: 'All rules apply.' What that meant was whatever rules the other teachers had – and even the ones they did not have – applied in this class without the need to specify them. Needless to say, the class was so silent that you could have heard a pin drop. We soon learned, from our own shocking experiences, that all rumors concerning Mr. Jones were true. Tom, a fellow student, had been warned by his older sibling of the setup. At night, Mr. Jones would secretly string wires – the width of your hair – carefully in the cracks of the wood floor. Thus connecting a students desk to the large generator which was hidden behind his own desk. Being privileged to this information, before taking his seat each morning Tom would lift his entire desk off the ground and shake it. After assuring himself that no wires were attached, he would sit down and a look of complete security and defiance would settle across his face. I, of course, had no understanding of Toms ritual, and with the rest of the class would exchange odd glances. Tom was an exceptional student. He was never tardy or absent. Well, almost never. There was one day he reported to school sick. Seizing the opportunity, Mr. Jones informed us that the very next day we were to have a surprise quiz. He further instructed the student whose desk was directly behind Toms desk to stand up and sharpen her pencil half way during the quiz. However, before leaving her desk, she was to notice that a hair thin wire just happened to be tapped to the leg of her own desk. She was to stealthy remove it and tape it on to the back of Toms desk – ensuring that the wire was touching something metal. The rest of us were to act as if nothing were to happen. And we did. The next day, Tom (who had recovered from his illness) showed up to class. As usual he picked up his desk and gave it a few good shakes before sitting down. And as usual the smile of complete satisfaction crossed his innocent face. His seemed a little surprised to learn that we were to have a pop quiz. Nothing had been mentioned of it earlier in the week. Everything went as planned. Half way through the quiz, a girl stood up to sharpen her pencil. The silence was rudely disrupted by the sounds of the sharpener grinding the pencil. Then, like clockwork, a loud shrill yell pierced our ears and we all watched in utter amazement as Tom leaped up. Like a bird (although not so graceful) he flew over the front of his desk! Note: I have replaced the names in this account with fictional ones.