You enter you new class at thefirst day of school. Politics, capitalism, and sozialism class. You had chosen this class out of pure boredom, you were one of the best students, and nextto upu other major's, you decided to add one just for the expirience. You had heard rumors about politics teachers reaking of ciggarettes, and talking way too fast. You sat down in front row, not just because it was the only seat available, but also because you had glasses, and even from a further distance, glasses wont really help if youre 10 ft away.

The door creeked open and you saw a man enter, late 20's, very tall and muscular, dirty blonde hair, dark soulles eyes, and clothes that fit way yoo hood fro him to be a teacher. Chosing politics was rather a good choice then.

"Hello, class of 2006. Im Mr Soules-" he greeted, his tone firm and his voice deep, yetwith a hint of gentleness, as he wrote his name on the blackboard, his brosd back muscles on display for you. "I will be educating you on past, present, and future politics, as in the history of capitalism, and the story of socialism." He said turning around to the class.

His eyes kept roaming the class, to study the atmosphere in the room, but as his gaze landed on you, it lingered for a momenttoo long, he cleared his throat and spoke up. "This lesson we wont start with anything educative, but rather with organizational stuff." His eyes kept goancing at you, for spilt seconds.