Paul had done his rounds of the school. Clapping his wooden spoon on the pot he was carrying....wearing a colander on his head, oven mitts on his hand...he was in the mood to make MUSIC. But not...with his banjo. With...things. THINGS. KITCHEN UTENSILS. It was fun times.

Did he care if people thought he was a loon? NOPE. He thought, perhaps, most people already thought this about him anyways!

As he passed Hirsch's office...

He heard what sounded like a very...tiny...little explosion? Nothing dangerous! But Paul was a curious man, and so he banged his pot the whole way into Hirsch's office, singing loudly, off-key.

And then, he stopped at the sight of his fellow.

And...

He laughed.

He laughed very very hard.

And then, he brushed some of the glitter off the man's shoulder....and....bellowed, "HIIIIRSCH THE GLITTTTTTER MAN--HE'S SUCH A GLITTER LOOOOOOOVER--PROFESSOR BY DAY, GLITTER MAN BY NIIIIIIIGHT--" If Hirsch wasn't confused enough, Paul's obnoxious singing might throw him off balance.