Malcolm: Mr. Woodward? I'm Malcolm, I'm Reese's brother.
Mr. Woodward: Oh, hi, how are you?
Malcolm: Well, Reese is upset. He thinks he did better than an "F" on his history test. I read it over, and I sort of thought... it wasn't half bad. Do you think there's any way you can maybe take another look?
Mr. Woodward: Malcolm, you should be commended for your fraternity, but, uh, the test deserved an "F."
Malcolm: Mr. Woodward, maybe if you just looked at it again...
Mr. Woodward: I can't spend a disproportionate amount of time on Reese. It's not fair to the other students.
Malcolm: But he didn't deserve an "F" on this.
Mr. Woodward: Look, Malcolm, I-I've been a teacher for a long time and, uh, I think I know what Reese is capable of.
Malcolm: I really don't think you do, because...
Mr. Woodward: Look, you may not want to hear this about your brother, but I've known kids like Reese my whole life. They're the ones who throw water at you so it looks like you wet your pants. They aim for your legs in dodgeball, and you fall down and you break your jaw and you need to have your mouth wired shut and your teeth don't set properly. And you spend six years in orthodontia with the most painfully embarrassing headgear ever designed, which is only because they don't feel fully actualized.