Cold Logic

Eyes twinkling with purpose, the young man typed away energetically on a keyboard, barely pausing to look down, totally unaware of anything else in his room.
The music blared, producing an almost involuntary headshake. 

Jason Carrow got up finally, stretching his lean arms, head thrown back, yawning. He scooped up the football on his feet, and began juggling until he accidentally directed the ball onto his now cold teacup.

Splat!

He ran out of the room, yelling, "I'm innocent! It was the cat!"

But his mother was buying none of it. Giving him that familiar piercing look, Mrs. Carrow stood stiff, forcing Jason to resignedly clean up the mess.

Oh well, I hate the tea anyway, he thought to himself. He fetched a mop and began cleaning up after clearing way the broken china. But just as he was doing so, the pattern in which the fragments had randomly fallen caught his eye.

Hands on his knees, he stared, deep in thought. Then he impatiently snapped his fingers, trying to keep pace with the possibilities that were occurring to him in a whirl, pacing about in the room. He lunged at the keyboard and started typing rapidly as it became clearer and clearer, the logic which had to be followed. 
It was almost finished; just one final obstacle to be defeated....what if I -

"Jason!"

Jason jumped, temporarily shaken. He turned around to find his mother looking into the room, furious. He followed her gaze to the half dried tea stain on the floor, with the mop lying beside it, forgotten in the sudden inspiration.

"I'm cleaning, I'm cleaning!"

Jason hastily cleared up the mess and put the mop back in the bathroom.

Sighing, he went back to the computer, trying to find a way to complete his code, his final project for school.

The next morning, Mrs. Carrow found her son sprawled on the floor, snoring loudly. The cat was sleeping on his stomach, and five books lay open beside him. The program was complete...