It was a bright and cheery afternoon; the zephyr blew in light breezes — except at occasional intervals, when it was increased by a gentle gust of wind which swept up the halls (for it is in Smash Academy that our scene lies), rattling along the desktops, and gently agitating the notebooks of the students that struggled against sleepy boredom.

A man hirsute of face and swole of body stood outside a doorway, and pawed at Blue's door with his hand.

"Mama," he said. "Mama, can I come in?"

Dear Reader, this is not the normal series of events, for Our Hero is typically acclaimed a Man of Action, tarrying not at mere doors, but instead bursting through the the strength of one who knows not the churlish bonds of private discretion.

[You would just see Connor, on the screen, unimpressed. He would make this very brief, for sure.]

I do not know who's idea it was to turn one of the supply closets into a bathhouse but none of it was brought to my attention.

The bathhouse might be harmless but the supplies in the closet are now unaccounted for.

I would very much appreciate it if anyone could inform me where those supplies are.