School grades were important. Or so everybody who wasn't Kendall Knight and a select other few thought.

School grades showed your intelligence, skill, determination, his teachers said. But then again, those were the same teachers who said that the creepy man from across the street wouldn't actually give them candy if they got into his car.

Pfffffffft. What did teachers know? Absolutely jack shit, Kendall thought smugly.

After all, who could ever dare question his pure genius after this? His intelligence, skill determination that his D-'s said he didn't have. (Who the fuck needed some stupid bit of paper with a letter on? Not him.)

How could he not have any? He was a fucking GOD, he decided, smiling at the image of his teachers burning to the ground, screeching furiously as his God-like skill burned them to dust. The dust would then blind all the non-believers, and they too would screech furiously as he bellowed in his all powerful voice to those who looked on with awe at his sheer awesome-ness, "Go, spread the word of the God, Kendall Knight, and beat anyone with fish sticks who dares to object to your new ruler! Now bow down and surrender your children to me."

Anyway. Kendall snapped out of his day dream, making a note to tell that one to Carlos later, as screen popped up on his laptop to inform him that his uploads had been successful.

Excellent.

His cursor hovered over the 'log off' button as he prepared to shut down the machine with a look of glee in his green eyes, when suddenly, another unexpected wave of genius hit.

He'd have to update his status from God to- he didn't even know because he'd have to find something better than God because he was amazing for thinking of this.

Clicking the cancel button, he quickly opened up a new internet page, and logged on to his email faster than one could say 'pudding'. Ignoring all the spam clogged up in his inbox (Kendoll Night, did you know you have been specially selected and are now entitled to $145231.73?) and opened a new email, tagging everyone in his contacts list.

Letting his fingers spaz over the keyboard for a few seconds, typing in a random message containing illiterate jumbled up letters, and ignoring spell check when it told him that '' wasn't a word.

Attaching image…

Kendall's fingers drummed on the sleek black laptop, humming a tune that vaguely sounded something along the lines of Eastenders, (his secret obsession). His excitement only grew when his laptop confirmed that his image had been attached, as he quickly scrolled over to the 'send' button.

He hesitated for a moment. Was this really the right thing to? Was it really worth it?

Fuck yes.

The blonde seventeen year old quickly silenced his 'Inner Logan' smirking and silently congratulating himself on his brilliance.

Sending the email and closing the laptop, the tall teen stretched out, much like a cat on his bed, before rising and exiting his shared room with James. Deciding he needed to treat himself to a pudding cup, as a reward for being so fucking clever.

Strolling through the kitchen, he saw Logan sprawled out on the bright orange sofa, one arm lazily dangling from the sofa grasping the remote, the other holding a medical dictionary. He was reading it, but every now again his eyes would flicker to the large T.V on the wall where a hockey game was playing.

Plopping down next to him with a smirk, Kendall's eyes were immediately drawn to the screen, as he took in the score, and glued his eyes to watching the puck fly down the rink.

Noticing his smirk, Logan raised a eyebrow and sighed.

"What have you done?" He drawled out, chocolate brown eyes looking at him expectantly.

Putting on a mock-hurt expression, the blonde teen placed a hand over his heart dramatically.

"Ouch. That hurt," Logan's expression remained unchanged, so Kendall rolled his eyes and sighed loudly. "I haven't done anything."

"Bullshit."

"Nice to know you think so highly of me," Kendall laughed from his seat, shoving another mouthful of pudding into his mouth.

"Well you've got that look on your face which tells me you've most defiantly done something. Probably won't be good, and knowing you it has something to do with the fact that you're a evil person. A bored evil person."

"Reeeeeelax Logie! I didn't do anything at all, swear down. To you anyway…" Kendall trailed off, finishing off his pudding cup and resuming back to watching the game.

"Oh God. That means I'll have to either put up with Carlos whining or James screaming. I'm not sure which is worst," The spiky haired teen pondered, before a vibrating in his pocket made him take out his phone.

Kendall grinned.

Sitting up, Logan's slightly tired eyes widened instantly as he opened the new email.

"Oh my Christ, you're insane. You're going to die."

Laughing hysterically, Kendall leaned over to look at the image on Logan's phone.

"Isn't it glorious?"

"Shouldn't you be hiding? Or running? What made you do this?" Logan cried, looking over to his slightly mental friend.

"I was bored," He shrugged, smile still spread all over his face.

"DUDE. You're going to die," a voice called out from across the room, where Carlos had popped his head out of his bedroom door, holding his own phone. Bounding over to the sofa, the Latino boy looked nervously over to the door. "I'd be going if I were you…"

"Chill, guys, there's no need to worry, I-"

Suddenly, the door to their apartment slammed open. The three boys jumped, and in a blink of a eye, a very pissed off James stood in the doorway, glaring at Kendall with death written in eyes.

"Shit."

Kendall quickly catapulted himself from the sofa, desperately trying to escape the wrath of the sandy-haired boy.

"I'M FUCKING GOING TO DESTROY YOU."

Logan and Carlos watched with interest as the two boys ran circles around the apartment, knocking over a number of items. Wincing when a practically loud crash sounded through the living room, Logan turned back to Carlos.

"So. Wanna watch The Lion King?"

"Fuck yeah."

Turning over the T.V and ignoring the fight going on in the background, they returned their gaze back to flat screen on the wall as Simba emerged onto the screen.

By this time James had caught up to Kendall and had pounced, sending him crashing to the floor. They continued to wrestle through the first half of the movie, insults and fists flying.

"Fucking jerk!"

"You started it!"

"No you did!"

"No I didn't!"

"Yes you did!"

"No I didn't!"

"Fuck you!"

"Get off!"

"Make me!"

Meanwhile, laying forgotten on the sofa, Logan's phone still displayed the image which had now been tossed to the floor by Carlos.

The image was taken just that morning after all the boys had woken up. Kendall had indeed been bored, and had been playing with his phone, his fingers accidentally slid over the camera button. Looking at the screen which now showed the other end of the sofa he was sitting on, where James just so happened to be sat, he had suddenly had a stroke of genius.

Repositioning the phone so he had a better view, the blonde teen had snickered as he took it.

He had captured the perfect image of James.

The tall teen was curled up on the other end of the bright couch, wearing his zebra-stripped pyjamas and cradling a steaming cup of coffee to his chest. His sleepy eyes were partially closed, but the best part was his usually perfect hair. Ruffled from sleep and not yet styled for the day, he was unwittingly sporting a amazing case of bed head. To many people, this wouldn't have been a very big deal. Sure, maybe embarrassing, but to James, bed head was one of the worst things to ever be created. His hair had to be perfect at all times, so this was just fucking sweet.

And now Kendall had captured it on camera.

And that very image had now been broadcast all over the Palm Woods.

And the internet.

Which was why James was currently beating the shit out of Kendall, and why Carlos and Logan were re-watching The Lion King again as they "didn't want to get involved" was how they explained the scene to a confused Mrs. Knight.

School grades were very important. Because if you had good ones, you'd probably of realized that taking that picture was a bad idea.

(But you might of done it anyway.)