Chemistry and Lies

The other day ProSC made the comment in class "I like to see what I can get away with." He was referring to walking the fine line between the socially acceptable and the faux pas. I must admit, I too have been tempted, many a time, to see how far I could push the envelope. There's something exhilarating about sacrificing your social reputation for a good joke, or just a great expression of your individual boldness. The statement caused me to reflect, and chuckle inside, at great moments of "getting away with" in my past life.
I can't believe I even remembered this experience, it's one of those that you completely forgot until you remembered it just once for some unexplanatory reason, but it comes back from my High School AP Chemistry days. (Now, I'm thinking, "of course I forgot that; I can't remember a lick of Chemistry.) Anyway, my chem teacher, Mr. H, was on his soap box about some professor at the Y and how he was a fraud, more acclaimed than he deserved, and, basically, a mock to the university. It was quite evident that 1) Mr. H really didn't care for this professor, and that 2)he was dangerously comfortable taking advantage of our naive minds by molding in us a natural distaste for this professor we might one day meet. (Now, as a disclaimer, I would just like to mention how much I really did love Mr. H- to the point that I was willing to take AP Chemistry, and really did value him as a teacher.) However, some sort of "let's not speak bad about others especially when they aren't here to defend themselves" bell rang within me, and I thought it a good time to soften Mr. H's heart, or at least, his tongue.
I quickly called out, skipping the hand-raising, "What's the professor name?"
Mr. H responded with some common English name, allowing my next reply. "Oh," my voice hardened, "that's my Grandpa."
Mr. H froze in his pacing; his face dropped into, no, not embarrassment or guilt, but unadulterated fear. The class was absolutely silent. It was pure bliss.
Mr. H mumbled some disclaimers about his previous ridicule, something about being a great person but not a great professor, while I reveled in his pain. I let him stew in his pain for awhile before I released him with my sweet, "Mr. H, I'm just kidding." I think he threw an eraser at me after that, lovingly.
I really don't know what came over me. Maybe it was because my Grandpa really was a professor at the Y and I just couldn't help but think, "this man is somebody's grandpa." For the most part, I am exceptionally well-behaved (乖 is the Mandarin character/word I really thought of first but then translated to English). But, sometimes, I get a little out of control in the name of justice, morals, and...food. And, sometimes, I just like to see what I can get away with.