Professor Math approached the board slowly, like someone handling a wild animal.

“We’re going to add parentheses,” he said.

Josh Jollyrancher stiffened. “Carefully.”

Professor Math wrote:

(½x)

Obesseus leaned forward.

“…Why the number in donut.”

Josh inhaled sharply. “It’s not a donut.”

“It round,” Obesseus said. “It hugging the sandwich-chopstick meal. That donut behavior.”

Professor Math tried to explain. “Parentheses group the expression.”

Obesseus nodded. “Yes. Donut contains snack.”

Josh slammed the desk. “NO FOOD IS CONTAINED.”

Obesseus reached into his pocket and pulled out an actual donut.

“Then explain this coincidence.”

The room went quiet.

Professor Math wiped his forehead. “The parentheses mean you solve what’s inside first.”

Obesseus froze.

“…So eat inside donut first.”

“No!” both shouted.

“But donut rule!” Obesseus protested. “You don’t eat plate. You eat middle.”

Josh rewrote the problem bigger.

(½x) + 3

“There,” he said. “Now it’s clear.”

Obesseus stared.

“So donut meal plus side dish.”

Professor Math dropped the chalk.

“That’s… not wrong,” he whispered, horrified.

The x tipped sideways again. The donut parentheses wobbled. The number 3 rolled toward the gravy vent.

Obesseus stood up proudly.

“Math is just lunch with rules.”

The chalkboard exploded into powdered sugar. Gravy alarms screamed. The clock began counting down in fractions.

Obesseus escaped through the door, donut in one hand, sandwich in the other, chopsticks clenched triumphantly in his teeth.

Josh Jollyrancher collapsed into a chair.

Professor Math stared at the empty board.

“We should never have invented circles,” Josh said.