He considers this--he considers all of this--for a few moments before stomping his foot and standing as tall and stern as a drill instructor. Which, essentially, he is. "The show is over; you are dismissed."

The kids--some are nearly his age, but he has their respect and occasionally their fear, and he is their superior, therefore he feels free to think of them collectively as kids--start and gather up their things and file out.

It's hard to say that Malcolm relaxes when he pulls himself out of instructor mode, padding over to his own things, but he does seem to ease up. Towel. Water bottle. These things first. "Quick shower first or straight to food and a dressing down?"