Principal Bristow is in his shiny new office. The script for the pageant isn't finished and he's frustrated.

Dean Bristow is set-up in the school theater. Do not get on his bad side, as he still has a manger to populate with livestock.

The Dean is wearing a beret. The bear is nowhere to be seen. We suspect artistic differences.

Dean Bristow's here for the thee-ah-tah. If your concerns are not about the thee-ah-tah, then you'd be best to see someone else. Perhaps Professor Jerusalem.

Dean Bristow is placing phone calls to his friends in theater to get the latest hot tips on directorial style.

ETA: The Office Hours are closed. The Spirit of Theater has carried the Dean away.

The Dean is flipping through "An Actor Prepares" by Constantine Stanislavski, and taking thorough notes. Niccolo is still watching the video feed from the naked Triad game, and it appears his eyes have become larger. They haven't, of course. That would be silly.

Dean Bristow is calculating the number of minutes in a year. He may or may not be writing a new Broadway musical based on his experiences at Fandom High called "Tuition."

The letters have disappeared. However, opening Dean Bristow's closet o' disguises is ill-advised. Indeed, Niccolo would appear to be holding the door shut with all his fuzzy bear might if he was an animate being. He's not, however, and having no musculature to speak of, merely leans against the door in a surprisingly tense way.

Walking into Dean Bristow's office today is like walking through a Midwestern town in autumn, but instead of crunchy golden leaves, there are identically worded political letters in small caps. Niccolo is floating on the sea of correspondence in a little paper boat over in the corner.

Dean Bristow is reading the ever-growing mountains of handwritten letters written in SMALL CAPS. The bear appears to be going over the student roster with a red marker, but again, couldn't possibly be because he's inanimate.