We had to work with Fittes for our last case, so I was stuck with Bobby while I researched.

The worst part is- his theory on the case was right!

And mine was wrong.

It’s ridiculous- stupid, I’m way smarter than he his.

Yet his theory was right.

I groan and put my head down on the table, my eyes half-heartedly looking at the thinking cloth.

I grab a pen and write ‘Bobby sucks.’

You walk in the kitchen, and notice my sulking.