"T-This can't be right! I've got top marks in all my homework assignments since first grade! My Daddikins will hear of this! You'll get the sack! I-It's not FAIR!" Compared to Chloe's temper tantrum, a word-ending tsunami would be pretty placid right now. And that's not even going into the fire-breathing, teeth gnashing and steam emanating quite inexplicably out of her ears like some sort of striped peroxide kettle on the boil.

Miss Bustier appeared quite unmoved though, and only raised a bemused eyebrow at her most disruptive pupil's useless remonstrations. "Sorry Chloe, but rules are rules. You can't past the test without authenticated completion of this current paper, and I'm afraid the school examination board is where the mayor's mighty influence begins to wane. So, unless you want to be held back a year with rest of the 'babies', then I suggest you plonk your keister down every evening for the foreseeable future and study hard, instead of trying on every expensive outfit in all the exclusive boutiques from here to Cannes. Money may help you keep up with the latest trends, but it can't buy you an education I'm afraid. At least, not in my class. Now, return to your seat please, and give us all a bit of peace and quiet. For at least five minutes, if you can last that long. Try and break your personal best, will you?"

Unable to utilise her not-so-secret weapon of familial connections in combination with her overused cellphone for once in her wretched life, Chloe snatched her erroneous essay back from the teacher's worktop, almost knocking over the hot mug of black coffee precariously positioned nearby in the process. If the painful prospect of almost acquiring second degree burns phased her at all though, she didn't show any inkling of it on her deep-set scowl. She was much too intent on stomping back to her chair with all the grace and poise of an elephant ballerina, all the while casting truly evil glares of death at her desk mate, an uncharacteristically smugly grinning Sabrina.

From her own slightly higher vantage point, Marinette Dupain-Cheng temporarily postponed her perpetual longing for a certain hunky green-eyed model, and began to glue together the fragments of evidence floating around in her mind, like the final pieces of a franchised Mean Girls jigsaw puzzle.

Chloe is totally pissed… Sabrina seems pleased with herself… Chloe failed her homework exercise… Sabrina has been doing all of Chloe's work since they started school together… Chloe doesn't know anything other than how to pick out a sparkly pair of impossible-to-walk-with high heels… and Sabrina passed her own designated task with flying colors. So, that can only mean…

Marinette was so chuffed with herself for figuring it out so swiftly, she felt like slapping on a deerskin hat and lighting up a pipe in honor of the most famous detective of them all. If the mindless slaughter of animals and heavy chain-smoking weren't so unacceptable in enlightened modern times, of course.

Right now, she was merely content with the comforting notion of Chloe flying solo from now on regarding the mindless drudgery of schoolwork, and as for Sabrina…

Well, maybe there was a glimmer of hope for the plucky, rebellious ginger yet.