In 6th grade we started switching classes, and the first day that I ever met my English teacher she was talking about something about how kids in the past have gotten in trouble for talking, etc. So I'm just sitting there, bored out of my mind (I don't even know why, it wasn't that boring. I think I was just tired) and I start screwing with some pen. I adjust it so you can push down the pen as deep as you want. Because I couldn't press it deep enough with my finger, and being the genius I am, I took a pencil and started pressing down the pen clicky thing deeper and deeper. Wait no, I didn't press down: I full deep-jammed that thing. I literally was sitting right in front of her, aiming it right at her, and I jammed the pencil down the pen so hard that the thing burst in my hand and sent the ink cartridge hurling like an inch from her. She didn't see it happen, but she heard the snap, saw the ink cartridge, saw my broken pen and looked at me.
I just looked at her blankly like "i'm going to die" and then I shyly say "I don't even know."
She just looked at me, said "huh." and then went back to talking. I kid you not.