Let's go with: the drawing.
I'll admit that mine might have been inspired by Greg's style of writing.
Spent most of today rototilling the walking paths in the garden, so still no extra energy to take care of comments. I swear I'll get to them!
Miss Darnwell moved silently about the classroom, like a rain cloud determined to block out the sun at every possible angle. The children didn't dare look up from their task, black, grey, or brown crayons choked between their pudgy fingers.
"Five more minutes," their teacher suddenly announced, causing several students to snap their drawing instruments in half. The more determined among those used it as an opportunity to draw with both hands.
When time ran out, Miss Darnwell called for the drawings to be placed on her desk. Damien, her pet rottweiler, eyed each child with open hunger but remained perfectly still, unleashed as he was.
He could afford to be patient, for he knew that the student judged to have created the worst piece of art would be served up as his dinner that night.