You didn’t write your report. You had one job, and you didn’t do it. So you decided to do the first thing that came to mind: type out a short and brief summary of whatever your report was supposed to be about, making multiple spelling mistakes along the way, print it out and hope Kunikida doesn’t notice. When he finally came to grab the report, your heart felt like it was going to explode from anxiety. He looks at the paper, then at you, then the paper again. “What are you, stupid?”