Tyranny in the Cafeteria

Yesterday, as we were eating our lunch in relative normality, Our little table became a bad example for new governments. I'm looking around, and everything seems normal. I read a paragraph from "Wicked," the book I'm reading now, then look up again. The first thing I see is the lunchroom supervisor, Pete (all names changed to protect the guilty) standing across from me at the table. The first thing out of his mouth was "Who threw it?" He said this with an air of "just tell me now, and nobody gets hurt." I, not having seen anything thrown, was rather confused by this. And I told him so. As soon as I was finshed telling him that nothing was thrown, he said "Uh huh. Who threw it," sounding bored and unbelieving. Next to me was Sara, a sixth grader who could eat a horse in one sitting (not that she's fat-in fact just the opposite). She was lapping up maple syrup straight from the container, a treat that she only gets on Brunch for Lunch day. About five seconds before Pete had come over, she had lobbed a syrup container (about one square inch) to one of her friends, who was standing where the evil Pete was now. Apparently Pete saw this two-foot lob, and guessed that some lunchtime insurrection was about to take place, because he just kept on asking who threw it. Everyone within two seats from Sara denied seeing anything thrown, yet Pete wouldn't leave. At long last, thinking that it was better just to confess to a misdemeanor, Sara admitted to lobbing the syrup a whole two feet across the table. She was immediatly taken away to eat lunch at Pete's desk, which is very near the doors of the caf.
This, sadly, is not the only example I can easily bring to mind showing the evilness of Pete. I sit down at the middle end of the 8th grade girl's table. For some reason--no sarcasm intended--Pete has singled us out and spends much of the lunch period standing at the end of our table, looking for minor infractions. Because there are about 14 of us, there is not always enough room to sit at the table. Because of this, some people stand. One girl was standing at the end of the table, and she was given recycling duty for a week. Now keep in mind that we are at the fourth table from the door, so there is no possibility that she could have been causing a traffic problem. Sitting at the ends of the two middle tables is a problem for that very reason, seeing as the lunch line goes right past the end of the table. But no such problem exists at our table.
Why, oh why must all lunchroom supervisors be evil? Why must they punish us for breathing? Why do we put up with it? I will never know.