Sometimes, school isn’t about grades—it’s about the stories that make you laugh for years. Johnny learned that the hard way.
He came home, backpack drooping, face pale, and dropped his report card on the table. “Dad… I got an F in math,” he muttered.
His dad glanced up. “An F? What happened?”
Johnny shrugged. “I answered the questions right. The teacher asked me, ‘What’s three times two?’ I said six. Then she asked, ‘What’s two times three?’ I said six again.”
Confused, his dad asked why he failed. Johnny leaned in, smirked, and said, “I asked her the same thing you’re probably thinking: ‘What the hell’s the difference?’”
Silence. Then laughter. His dad doubled over. “Exactly what I’d say!” Johnny grinned. The teacher, less amused, didn’t see the punchline the way they did.
But Johnny’s family didn’t stop there. His dad had a legendary morning ritual: a thunderous wake-up fart that could clear a room. Years of complaints went unheeded, until one Christmas morning, Johnny’s mom staged the ultimate revenge.
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