In seventh grade, I had a reading/PE teacher, Mr. Rudger. He would always call me Howdy Doody because of my freckles and big round head and the space between my front teeth (which have since grown together). He would do it in front of the other students too which I hated. He thought he was really funny. He wasn't. One day he called me Howdy Doody once again in front of the entire PE class. Everyone laughed. I had had enough so I sarcastically said, "Whatever, Clarabell" which received even bigger laughs from the class. Infuriated, he made me stand in the corner the rest of the period for talking back. Afterward I was written up and sent to the office. I told the story to the Vice Principal - including what Mr. Rudger's had been calling me - who sent me home with a note describing what had happened. My parents were impressed that I took it for so long (nearly the entire school year) but I didn't get in trouble. The teacher never called me by anything but my given name after that.
And that is why I am an axe murderer today.
The end.