Okay, so this was in fourth grade, and I was surrounded by a bunch of idiotic classmates. Here’s some context: My parents usually pack me fruit for a snack, but on this particular day they packed me like half of the leftover Pringles from the day before, you know, in that cylinder container. I was thrilled because I LOVE PRINGLES. But when recess came, and I was ready to take MY Pringles and eat them outside, they were missing from my bag. I started scoping the area, trying to find my Pringles. I called the teacher over; she tried to find them but had no luck either. Then this thought comes to my mind—What if MOIRA STOLE IT? Moira was this chubby girl in my class that literally ALWAYS wore this purple princess dress that should be classified as a bad Halloween costume (seriously) and was known for being a bitch. Being the judgmental 9-10 year old I was, I straight out concluded that she must’ve stolen my damn Pringles. I told my teacher, “Well, too bad, I’ll just go out for recess now. It was just PRINGLES.” Playing it cool. So I stomp out of the class and start searching for Moira. I’m talking checking areas, finding witnesses, wasting my time. So after a solid 10 minutes, I find a group of these kids crowded at the side of one of the portable classrooms. I hurry over to see what’s going on. The kids were eating Pringles. Barbecue flavored Pringles. MY PRINGLES. I start raging as I smack the Pringles out of the kids’ hands and start ripping people away from the main source. And in the middle of all the kids, sat a smug looking MOIRA with my PRINGLES. I look all mad and rip the BLOODY EMPTY CONTAINER OF PRINGLES OUT OF THE DAMN BITCH’S FILTHY HANDS. By now even dumbass Moira knows what’s up, she’s a goner. I would’ve murdered her at the very least, but a supervisor saw us and ran over. Moira was made to apologize, and I had to accept her stupid apology. I never got to eat my Pringles. To this day, I’m certain she fears my cold, dead hands, ready to tear her lying face off.