No me gustan los lunes

Lucien, who is thirteen-years-old, knows that real trouble begins at the school doors, and only gets worse after that. There is always a teacher to keep you awake and glued to your chair for two hours. And there is no one to help him here. Not Basilio, his good friend who prefers to go by the name Crouton, nor Rosa, his old painter girlfriend who died 120 years ago. Here, there is only boredom. And Lucien does not like this. He does not like fou...