You were sitting at a desk in art class and carefully completing the task of painting an autumn landscape when suddenly you felt an icy hand on your shoulder. You glanced behind you and saw your creepy art teacher, Miss Yvette, staring at your picture with disgust. "What in the name of the Blessed Virgin Mary is that?" she said angrily, she was already holding her sharp-tipped brush in her hand, ready to stick it into your neck.