The Floating Ring

-Anti cancer
-Pro food
-Activist against dad jokes
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The atmosphere is panicked and there is an impeding sense of doom. The desks--which used to be assembled as groups--are now spaced apart in test formation. 

Books are spread out as far as the eye can see (in this case, 4 meters) and desperate eyes devour the endless formulas. 

And...

...I'm the one, right in the middle of the chaos, who is giving out extra pencils...

And that's not the only way I save lives.

See, I'm so good at my job I can even do it with my eyes closed. Heck, I can do it with my hands tied behind my back. Sound unrealistic? 

Yea, I know, but I'm not lying; I really am a scientific miracle. 

I can breathe.

Every time I exhale, I create carbon dioxide--something young, innocent trees desperately need in order to grow. 

Especially in dire times like these; their families, their communities...even their crushes, are being cut down--humanity is basically a serial killer with a chain saw. These poor, little trees are really nervous; they're breathing faster and need more air. And that's why, ladies and gentlemen, I've dedicated my whole life to becoming a carbon dioxide donor.

 Anyway, while I'm focusing on last-minute stationery distribution, I search the room for assistance--I need someone to pass out calculators. My eyes land on Cady Heron and I know she won't be any help; she doesn't associate herself with plastic anymore. I realise I'll have to do the job all alone, but that's ok; I'll eventually learn to forgive her. After all, she is one of the only people I can trust--one of the only people I know who agrees adding coriander to food is a culinary crime (fact source: my imagination).

Now, you might be wondering why I'm so dedicated to social justice:

"If you live your life without giving an 'f', then you're living a li( )e"
-Someone with an internet connection
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(Ashley Portwood is a nom de plume. If you happen to know me, just look right here. *holds up spy gadget* )