"Hydrogen peroxide? Hah! No no, you need to use baking soda mixed with water followed by diluted vinegar." A burly man scoffed as he wiped a wooden beam with a rag.

A scrawny creature that had more in common looks wise with a rat than a man scoffed, "You're crazy! You let the hydrogen peroxide soak, and then you wipe it off, and bam! Bloods practically gone already."

"Fools," a slightly portly wolf man said as he picked his teeth with a knife. "Those are well and good, but it's usually not just blood alone. You really want something clean? Well you have to use specialist products like Prolystica do that it'll grab onto the bits of fat and other viscera. Otherwise you're just hiding the gore deeper in whatever you're cleaning."

The two others exchanged glances and rolled their eyes.

"Oh sure. We'll take advice from a fleabag like you." The rat man said with a smirk. "I bet your fur is so thick water has never actually touched your skin, so what would you know about getting stuff clean?"

"Is that what you think?" The wolf man shook his head as he walked closer. "Well let me tell you..."

The three of them continued to debate the best way to properly clean up after a fight. All while they cleaned up using their various methods. Each clearly trying to prove their ways reliability to the others.

Across the battlefield small scenes like this unfolded. Messes were cleaned. Bodies were carried away. Repairs were made. Everyone seemed busy with something.

Well, almost everyone.

Harold was "supervising" the cleaning. Which of course meant he would walk up to various creatures and go into vast detail about how their technique was wrong, how they needed to prioritize things differently, or some other miniscule complaint he would blow out of proportion.

Even the smiling man was sweeping up debris from the fight.

"You certainly changed your attitude quickly," Azrail said as he used a rag to wipe dirt off of a tall wooden beam.

Abraham was stacking dead, but still warm bodies onto his shoulder. He looked over at Azrail and frowned. "It's a big place you know. You could've picked anywhere else to clean up."

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"Ah, but this was where I was led. Right back to your side." Azrail mused. "I have learned not to question these things. After all, they have led to many different, and interesting interactions for me. Why, I remember a time when I was..."

"Yeah," interrupted Abraham. "I'll take that as my cue to leave then. If you're so adamant on staying, I'll go."

As Abraham turned to leave with the corpses on his shoulder he muttered, "Anything to not hear one of your idiotic, rambling stories again."

Azrail smiled as he was left alone. He didn't seem even slightly bothered as he continued his work. "The ones who need it the most, are always the ones who skip class. A tale as old as time."

An hour passed, and much of the cleanup was done. Now most of the work focused on construction again. They still seemed determined to finish what they had started.

As Harold roamed around like a hawk he paused in front of Minabous. She was sleeping with her mouth gaping open as she snored. Her head hang over the edge of the karaoke platform as she seemed completely peaceful.

WHACK!

"Huh? Who? Wha?" She was startled awake as Harold slammed a yardstick onto the wood inches from her face.

Harold scowled at her. "And what exactly do you think you're doing young lady? And in such an promiscuous outfit no less!"

Minabous looked down at her clothes for a moment before she looked back at him.

"Just who exactly do you think you are?" She snorted.

Harold whacked the yardstick against his open palm while he shook his head. "Kids these days."

His face turned serious as he glared down at her. "I may as well be your personal god young lady. Your life depends on my graciousness."

She just snorted in response. It was clear she didn't seem to be as affected by his commanding aura as others were.

"Young lady, are you aware of what work ethic is? Do you know that without order and discipline there is only chaos?" Harold explained. "I am the wall holding back chaos from consuming not just you, but our entire society. Without rules, children would descend into chaos and destruction. Not just for this school, but their blight would spread to their homes, their towns, and eventually this entire country."

"You sound fun," she scoffed before she tucked her arms under her head and readjusted along her back. "Now stop bugging me and let me nap. There's really nothing better after a fight than a good sleep."

WHACK!

Harold's face was furious as he slammed down the yardstick so hard next to her head that it snapped in half. She didn't seem to expect that and this time bolted up to a sitting position.

"What's your problem?" She scowled.

Harold was now looking up at her with a glare so fierce that rivaled the sun itself. "It seems you're not just dumb, but thick skilled as well."

"Hey, I..."

"Silence! You will not speak out of turn again!" His voice boomed and despite her being well over twice his height, at this moment she seemed much smaller than him.

He picked up one of the broken chunks of the yardstick and shook his head. "I will give you a simple task. When you finish, I expect you to go home and change into a proper ladies outfit before you return."

Minabous rolled her eyes as she flipped around to fully face him.

"Now, this is normally used on much younger children, but in this case, it's necessary." He explained. "You will write on the chalkboards 'I will follow orders,' five-hundred times. Be sure to tell me when you finish so that I can check your work."

She let out a sigh and scratched her horns. "What are you dumb? There isn't any chalk around here, let alone any chalkboards."

Harold looked down at the broken yardstick. "It seems you are too stupid to even solve such a simple problem."

Before she could utter any retort, he bent over and dug the yardstick into the ground. Slowly he traced out a large rectangle in the dirt. "A steady hand is important in many things." As he finished, he dropped the small broken piece onto the ground.

"Don't rush, or you risk sloppy penmanship. If it's not perfect, I will make you start over." He added.

She opened her mouth to protest, but he interrupted her.

"Do something well, or you may as well not do it at all." Harold commanded before he walked away.