Then it was back to the school, which was locked. After a few minutes of freezing, convincing Lird his spotless record wouldn't be besmirched forever if a custodian saw us, convincing Amos that picking the prop closet's door in front of a security camera wasn't the brightest concept in the world, and running back and forth between doors, we made our way inside. To anyone who dared ask what in the world we were doing, Lucentio brightly piped up, "We're waiting for a foosball table!"

Well, we were. But that's another tedious matter all in itself.

And now to write about the Cold War once again.

Adieu.