A long time ago back in the early school days, we didn't have emailed report cards so the kids were expected to always take the thing home, have the parents sign, and bring it back to the teacher. Now, there wasn't much getting around having low grades because a bunch of kids are too stupid to figure out how to forge a signature but what I could do was mess around with things slowly until it was time for that card. Thinking I was clever at the time, I'd always bring in my graded work, making sure to set anything with a C or above in an easy-to-find stack making it look like I was just getting clutter out of my backpack but at night, I'd hide away all the "F"s and "D"s that I'd get in trouble for into a small crevice behind the racecar bed that my parents never thought to look into. Whenever I had a chance, I'd just take all the bad grades and sneak them out to burn or toss into someone else's trash so even if they checked, chances were they'd just find an empty spot. Now, this led to a long drawn out feud between my parents and the teacher as they demanded to know how I was making such a bad grade on the card when all the work I brought home showed that I was doing well in class. The teacher hated me and was trying to get me on some meds because she was annoyed with me doing stuff like tapping pencils on the desk and leaning back in my chair, nothing really warranting going that far. Well, after a failed attempt at searching my room and finding nothing, my parents sided with me and I kinda rode through that year getting hell from that teacher but at least I didn't get grounded so I'd still get to play videogames whenever I got home. That's all I really cared about back then.