Room 402, Wednesday afternoon
Sam was all dressed up. She had on her rattiest, dirtiest clothes, extra ripped just for the occasion, and drizzled with barbecue sauce. She had a pale green foundation on, with excess, smeared eyeliner creating a very baggy effect around her eyes, and more barbecue sauce around her mouth, over black lipstick. She had her hair fluffed out into oblivion. With just a touch more barbecue sauce.
Look, it hadn't been easy to get all of that on her without eating it all, okay?
Last but not least, she had the soy brain from Diversity class out of its jar and leaking soy brain juice all over her hands. She'd put some more barbecue sauce on it, too, not just for texture. She expected it was going to taste pretty wretched.
Now all she needed was her oh-so-gullible and oh-so-traumatizable boyfriend to arrive, and she'd be all set.
[ooc: for him what's mentioned in the narrative, though it can be open for after that.]
Look, it hadn't been easy to get all of that on her without eating it all, okay?
Last but not least, she had the soy brain from Diversity class out of its jar and leaking soy brain juice all over her hands. She'd put some more barbecue sauce on it, too, not just for texture. She expected it was going to taste pretty wretched.
Now all she needed was her oh-so-gullible and oh-so-traumatizable boyfriend to arrive, and she'd be all set.
[ooc: for him what's mentioned in the narrative, though it can be open for after that.]