The Imperials

Annoyance

Musa POV:

"Shhh, no talking Musa and Hud!" Mr. Miller, my history teacher shushed us, pacing around the class with his hawk eyed gaze as we struggled to finish our test. 

"Fine," I announced, placing my focus back on my test paper.

 I tried the first question, too hard. I flipped to the next one, mind-blowing hard. The next one, astagfirullah. I can't do this anymore, clowns don't do tests.

No, you can do this Musa!

No, I really can't!

I gave up.

For the first question, I drew a stickman. I named it Mr. Twig. I gave Mr. Twig a huge potbelly that almost took the entire test paper.

 I couldn't help it, so I laughed out loud. Mr. Twig looked pregnant now with his protruding belly. 

"Musa, stop fooling around!" Mr. Miller yelled, shooting me a warning look. 

"Yeah, yeah, I'm focusing!" I stifled in my escaping laughter, and I looked back at Mr. Twig. Mr. Twig looked naked, so I gave him some baggy pants and a cowboy hat since I was a generous man. 

Mr. Twig was an inspiration for my test, so I moved on to the next question. "Psst Hud," I hissed at Hud who was sitting in the neighbouring desk, his eyes trained on his paper. 

Hud turned his head, and so did my history teacher. "Eyes on your paper Musa!" Mr. Miller yelled, his face a ball of anger. 

"Oh, it's just my eyes. They do weird things!" I laughed. "Called the eye exercise!"

"Mhmm, eyes on your paper. You can do your exercises later!"

"But, my eyes gonna gain weight. You don't want one of your students with huge creepy eyeballs, do you?"

"Musa, you're disturbing everyone!" 

"I was just noting facts--"

"Would you like to sit beside me up in the front?" He gestured to the special desk next to his desk, only reserved for those who are annoyingly special and famous like me. 

"Uh... not today." I politely declined. "Perhaps tomorrow? Deal?"

"Musa, finish your test!" He shouted with a loud sigh. "Would you like a zero, and a 'N' in needs improvement for your behaviour which will look really bad for your college application?"

"Sure--"

Sheesh, mom wouldn't like it!

"No, I don't!" I corrected quickly with a polite cough. Why is my mom so against the circus? I mean it wouldn't look bad if my grandkids went to the family tree and found one of their ancestors a clown. I'd be a huge inspiration instead!

"Finish the test, Musa!" He shouted. "Test ends in fifteen minutes!"

"Fifteen minutes?" I shrieked, hastily flipping through my test pages that seemed to leave a sea of questions blank, all which stirred my brain into a bay of havoc. If mom really thought I was smart, I would've aced this garbage right now. 

Oh no, mom, I need help!

Allah where are you? 

He's watching the Olympics in Brazil since you're too boring, the clown in my head mocked. I immediately kicked it away with my mighty force. Now wasn't the time of goofing around. 

I was desperate!

What was the effing answer to the reason behind the destruction of the Ottoman Empire?