((Mildred Platt continued from the place she was comin' from))
Mildred woke up the next morning because some asshole was yelling above her.
Took a minute for her to realize it wasn't just some asshole but the asshole, guy trying to make a run for the asshole crown. She was still a little woozy and peeled her face off the floor just as the voice concluded.
She coughed dryly and realized she had no jacket. She was also starving. However, that little morning telegram was pretty clear that some psychos were already getting their Jason on.
Mildred scooped up a few blunts from the pile, shoved them into her pocket and then grabbed the other person that was awake. No way she was going out alone, especially knowing it was Friday the 13th out there. Didn't wanna wake Tull, though. He needed to rest up.
"I'm fam-ished, fam," she said to Kathleen, and hauled her up.
Mildred, of course, didn't remember the food in the very bag that was hanging from her arm.
The two continued to the dining area. If there were FUNYUNS® anyplace, it was gonna be here. The two of them (three, technically. She still had the squirrel guy on her hand) entered the dining area.
"Yo," she said quietly. "Um... Do you got... dreams?" Mildred slowly poked her head into the dining area.
I'm Just A Shot Away From You
Open Day 2 Morning
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Ruggahissy
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(Kathleen continues from intersection)
Hm? Huh? Sounds? Noises?
Oh right. My head. My neck. Was I sleeping wrong? Oh yeah, so wrong. Ouch.
Loud noises, so loud. Kathleen's throat ached. Cottonmouth extreme. Blegh....terrible taste.
"Huh? Oh. Yeah." Kathleen was out of it. Followed Mildred.
Dreams? I mean...yeah. "Uh...yeah. I have dreams. Like...fall asleep and see shit, you know? Dreams are weird. What about them?"
Legit, like, what the fuck about them.
Hm? Huh? Sounds? Noises?
Oh right. My head. My neck. Was I sleeping wrong? Oh yeah, so wrong. Ouch.
Loud noises, so loud. Kathleen's throat ached. Cottonmouth extreme. Blegh....terrible taste.
"Huh? Oh. Yeah." Kathleen was out of it. Followed Mildred.
Dreams? I mean...yeah. "Uh...yeah. I have dreams. Like...fall asleep and see shit, you know? Dreams are weird. What about them?"
Legit, like, what the fuck about them.
((Angelo Lee continued from Blind Justice))
It had been afternoon-ish when Angelo was finally free of the endless, near-featureless expanse of snow on the mountainside, and then twilight by the time he'd stumbled upon the cluster of buildings. He hadn't really stopped to think about what they were for, or- anything really, before making his way inside one, finding an unoccupied room with a bed, and making a half-assed effort at barricading the door before passing the fuck out.
He slept like the dead. Something about carving half your face open did that to a guy. Morning brought with it more pain, a sad little breakfast of protein bar, water, and probably too much ibuprofen (but at least it was ibuprofen and not aspirin, because aspirin could give you ulcers or something). Around that point, Angelo finally consulted the map in his bag. His best guess as to where he was was the area marked Research Station, though he'd have to go out and look around to confirm that. The building he'd found seemed like a dorm. Well, dorms had rec rooms and kitchens and all that good shit. The good shit people would want and would gather around.
The announcement... yeah. Yeah. Angelo was trying not to think too hard about it, because the more he thought about it, the more it weighed on him. It squeezed his chest like a vice, and what came out was helpless anger and a choking feeling that he guessed he'd call despair.
Zora and John had made it through the night. All his close friends that he could think of on the trip had made it through. A very, very thin silver lining when other people who deserved to live just as much, like Steve and Spike and yes, even Mallory, hadn't.
Here's the thing, though: Angelo was no lone wolf, even if he sometimes liked to play one when he was feeling edgy. He liked people and liked being around them. The sense of isolation from trudging what felt like miles through the snow and sleeping alone in this dingy concrete room was almost as bad as everything the announcement made him feel.
That was the kind of thing he hadn't really been able to explain to Zora and John yesterday. Shelter was more than physical shelter. Angelo knew people were going to flock there; he wasn't as much of an idiot as Zora seemed to think, all evidence aside. He needed people. Maybe someone was out there who needed him, too.
So Angelo got up, carefully and painfully changed the bandages on his face to keep the injury as clean as possible, and hefted the khanda over one shoulder and his bags over the other. Then he made his way down to the kitchen.
There were voices already, and just the sound of them made his heart jerk in an unexpected way. Relief and fear all in one. Angelo couldn't identify them immediately, though both were familiar in the way that the voices of people you heard all the time were. He cleared his throat and called out.
"Uh- hey?"
It had been afternoon-ish when Angelo was finally free of the endless, near-featureless expanse of snow on the mountainside, and then twilight by the time he'd stumbled upon the cluster of buildings. He hadn't really stopped to think about what they were for, or- anything really, before making his way inside one, finding an unoccupied room with a bed, and making a half-assed effort at barricading the door before passing the fuck out.
He slept like the dead. Something about carving half your face open did that to a guy. Morning brought with it more pain, a sad little breakfast of protein bar, water, and probably too much ibuprofen (but at least it was ibuprofen and not aspirin, because aspirin could give you ulcers or something). Around that point, Angelo finally consulted the map in his bag. His best guess as to where he was was the area marked Research Station, though he'd have to go out and look around to confirm that. The building he'd found seemed like a dorm. Well, dorms had rec rooms and kitchens and all that good shit. The good shit people would want and would gather around.
The announcement... yeah. Yeah. Angelo was trying not to think too hard about it, because the more he thought about it, the more it weighed on him. It squeezed his chest like a vice, and what came out was helpless anger and a choking feeling that he guessed he'd call despair.
Zora and John had made it through the night. All his close friends that he could think of on the trip had made it through. A very, very thin silver lining when other people who deserved to live just as much, like Steve and Spike and yes, even Mallory, hadn't.
Here's the thing, though: Angelo was no lone wolf, even if he sometimes liked to play one when he was feeling edgy. He liked people and liked being around them. The sense of isolation from trudging what felt like miles through the snow and sleeping alone in this dingy concrete room was almost as bad as everything the announcement made him feel.
That was the kind of thing he hadn't really been able to explain to Zora and John yesterday. Shelter was more than physical shelter. Angelo knew people were going to flock there; he wasn't as much of an idiot as Zora seemed to think, all evidence aside. He needed people. Maybe someone was out there who needed him, too.
So Angelo got up, carefully and painfully changed the bandages on his face to keep the injury as clean as possible, and hefted the khanda over one shoulder and his bags over the other. Then he made his way down to the kitchen.
There were voices already, and just the sound of them made his heart jerk in an unexpected way. Relief and fear all in one. Angelo couldn't identify them immediately, though both were familiar in the way that the voices of people you heard all the time were. He cleared his throat and called out.
"Uh- hey?"
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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Ruggahissy
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"....."
Mildred cocked her left eyebrow and half-frowned with the right side of her mouth.
"Nah... Like asp'rations. Ambition. Stuff ya wanted ta do."
She gave Kathleen another incredulous sidelong glance and took another few steps closer to the kitchen door, unaware of the small amount of blood leaking out from the other side.
She continued to be unaware because another person suddenly appeared and cleared his throat to announce his presence. Mildred stood up straight as soon as she heard it and whipped around, ready to duck.
It was Angelo and he looked, well...
"Yo, what the fuck happened?" she exclaimed after catching sight of him, mouth hanging open. She looked back at Kathleen.
Did this nerd actually fight someone?
Mildred wasn't entirely sure what to do. It looked like he had done as much first aid as he could to his face. He had a big-ass sword on his shoulder, but he was just standing there.
After a bit more deliberation Mildred half-jogged over to him.
From her back pocket she took out one of the blunts and the lighter. Mildred stuck the blunt in her mouth and cupped the tip with her hand, flicking the lighter to life and touching it to the joint.
She took a puff, looked at him, and then discretely took three more puffs before handing it to him via the squirrel puppet on her hand.
"S' the only thing I can...."
The only thing she could do for him.
Mildred cocked her left eyebrow and half-frowned with the right side of her mouth.
"Nah... Like asp'rations. Ambition. Stuff ya wanted ta do."
She gave Kathleen another incredulous sidelong glance and took another few steps closer to the kitchen door, unaware of the small amount of blood leaking out from the other side.
She continued to be unaware because another person suddenly appeared and cleared his throat to announce his presence. Mildred stood up straight as soon as she heard it and whipped around, ready to duck.
It was Angelo and he looked, well...
"Yo, what the fuck happened?" she exclaimed after catching sight of him, mouth hanging open. She looked back at Kathleen.
Did this nerd actually fight someone?
Mildred wasn't entirely sure what to do. It looked like he had done as much first aid as he could to his face. He had a big-ass sword on his shoulder, but he was just standing there.
After a bit more deliberation Mildred half-jogged over to him.
From her back pocket she took out one of the blunts and the lighter. Mildred stuck the blunt in her mouth and cupped the tip with her hand, flicking the lighter to life and touching it to the joint.
She took a puff, looked at him, and then discretely took three more puffs before handing it to him via the squirrel puppet on her hand.
"S' the only thing I can...."
The only thing she could do for him.
"Oh. That. Uh...that kind of stuff always stresses me out. Just want to live a life. But...I like makeup. So...some kind of make up related care-"
And then Kathleen stared at the wounded man. But...one big detail made Kathleen hesitate, and hang back a bit.
The giant sword. He already got into a fight, and he has a giant fucking sword.
This did not do well for Kathleens already high and tired brain. Mmfghrh, but mouth dry. Need to do this to get drink. Why? Because the much more alert person went there, therefore Kathleen must follow.
Forever I may roam.
"You...good?"
And so Kathleen finally followed squirrel-girl to the hurt nerd.
And then Kathleen stared at the wounded man. But...one big detail made Kathleen hesitate, and hang back a bit.
The giant sword. He already got into a fight, and he has a giant fucking sword.
This did not do well for Kathleens already high and tired brain. Mmfghrh, but mouth dry. Need to do this to get drink. Why? Because the much more alert person went there, therefore Kathleen must follow.
Forever I may roam.
"You...good?"
And so Kathleen finally followed squirrel-girl to the hurt nerd.
You know, of all the greetings Angelo had been expecting, having "DREAD" Platt, First (And Probably Last) Of Her Name jog over and very nearly hand him a blunt via hand puppet like this was some kind of wack-ass Nickelodeon kids' show was not it. He shifted his grip on the khanda to free one of his hands and accepted the blunt, mainly because he didn't know what else to do in response.
Angelo had, in fact, never smoked weed; that was one thing he'd always been a little too paranoid about his parents catching him at to try. He figured it was as harmless as drugs could get, generally, but it wasn't something really defensible if he got caught out, the way that the other stuff they fought about was.
"I mean-" Right, okay, so where do we go from here? If he was cagey, that was suspicious, and if he admitted the truth it was either really worrying or really stupid, and also, who just asked if someone was good in these circumstances (ignoring the fact that Angelo had just rolled up and greeted the two girls with "hey" like it was a normal morning on campus)?
"...You know what. Gimme thirty seconds." He hopefully waylaid any further questions by putting the blunt to his lips and taking a deep drag without further hesitation.
And promptly choked and then doubled over hacking and coughing as smoke filled his lungs. He was just barely able to keep from dropping the blunt.
"Ech- you know what," he wheezed weakly, "make it sixty."
Angelo had, in fact, never smoked weed; that was one thing he'd always been a little too paranoid about his parents catching him at to try. He figured it was as harmless as drugs could get, generally, but it wasn't something really defensible if he got caught out, the way that the other stuff they fought about was.
"I mean-" Right, okay, so where do we go from here? If he was cagey, that was suspicious, and if he admitted the truth it was either really worrying or really stupid, and also, who just asked if someone was good in these circumstances (ignoring the fact that Angelo had just rolled up and greeted the two girls with "hey" like it was a normal morning on campus)?
"...You know what. Gimme thirty seconds." He hopefully waylaid any further questions by putting the blunt to his lips and taking a deep drag without further hesitation.
And promptly choked and then doubled over hacking and coughing as smoke filled his lungs. He was just barely able to keep from dropping the blunt.
"Ech- you know what," he wheezed weakly, "make it sixty."
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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Ruggahissy
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Mildred stared at him for a moment and then let out a delighted cackle.
"Aw no, it's his first time!" she said to Kathleen, between laughter.
"Breathe short and quick so yer inhaling smoke on the exhale. Coughing isn't so bad since running outta breath is oxygen deprivation and will lead to a stronger high too."
Her mind cycled, trying to think of something that would help. Then she suddenly brightened up, eyes lit up and posture straightened from an idea.
"Once you get in the groove it'll help with the pain, promise. But I can shotgun ya. People always tell me this helps."
Mildred took the blunt from Angelo, took a looooooong drag, and then took his face in her hands. Luckily, he was only a little taller than her. She put her mouth to his to create a seal, and pushed the smoke into his mouth.
"Aw no, it's his first time!" she said to Kathleen, between laughter.
"Breathe short and quick so yer inhaling smoke on the exhale. Coughing isn't so bad since running outta breath is oxygen deprivation and will lead to a stronger high too."
Her mind cycled, trying to think of something that would help. Then she suddenly brightened up, eyes lit up and posture straightened from an idea.
"Once you get in the groove it'll help with the pain, promise. But I can shotgun ya. People always tell me this helps."
Mildred took the blunt from Angelo, took a looooooong drag, and then took his face in her hands. Luckily, he was only a little taller than her. She put her mouth to his to create a seal, and pushed the smoke into his mouth.
Kathleen stared more. Big sword man can't take a blunt. Ha! Okay, maybe this guy isn't so bad. For some reason Kathleen found this guy choking to death funny.
"First timers. Hopefully he's one of the cool first timers, like seriously, please let that be the case."
Or else it'll ruin MY high.
"You'll get through it dude. Now what's yo-"
Kathleen saw a strange liquid under the door, and started staring at it. What IS that?
High brain started churning...
"First timers. Hopefully he's one of the cool first timers, like seriously, please let that be the case."
Or else it'll ruin MY high.
"You'll get through it dude. Now what's yo-"
Kathleen saw a strange liquid under the door, and started staring at it. What IS that?
High brain started churning...
"Hrrgh- ack!" Angelo reeled back from Mildred, still choking and wheezing, only faintly aware that he'd nicked his lip on her braces. "Jesus Christ, are you fuckin'- trying to kill me!?" He was too busy trying to catch his breath to consider his words under the circumstances.
Angelo blinked rapidly, his remaining good eye watering. "Is- is this how you're saying hi to everyone now?" Like okay, okay. Maybe that was something he could see people doing. Why not, right, if you're all gonna die?
Oh boy. His brain really had to be oxygen-starved already.
Angelo planted the khanda on the floor and leaned on it heavily once he'd put enough space between himself and Mildred to start sucking in lungfuls of comparatively fresh air. "Goddamn. You gotta warn a guy." He glanced over to Kathleen, undecided on whether he was going to chew her out for not helping him or what.
"Right. Cool. Thanks. What're you looking at?" His voice didn't come out as forcefully as he'd hoped. He'd kind of wanted to be more in control of the situation this time around, given that he wasn't bleeding profusely from his face and all.
...Instead, it was the door to the next room that seemed to be bleeding this time. "Oh shit."
Angelo blinked rapidly, his remaining good eye watering. "Is- is this how you're saying hi to everyone now?" Like okay, okay. Maybe that was something he could see people doing. Why not, right, if you're all gonna die?
Oh boy. His brain really had to be oxygen-starved already.
Angelo planted the khanda on the floor and leaned on it heavily once he'd put enough space between himself and Mildred to start sucking in lungfuls of comparatively fresh air. "Goddamn. You gotta warn a guy." He glanced over to Kathleen, undecided on whether he was going to chew her out for not helping him or what.
"Right. Cool. Thanks. What're you looking at?" His voice didn't come out as forcefully as he'd hoped. He'd kind of wanted to be more in control of the situation this time around, given that he wasn't bleeding profusely from his face and all.
...Instead, it was the door to the next room that seemed to be bleeding this time. "Oh shit."
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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Ruggahissy
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Angelo pulled away and started coughing up a lung. Rather than laugh like before, Mildred just stood with her hands on her hips, blunt in one hand, smirking.
"You'll thank me in a couple minutes," she said knowingly, just a tiny bit of his blood on her tongue.
She then followed his gaze over to Kathleen, which then connected to Kathleen and followed her gaze, ping ponging finally to the dark puddle coming from under the door.
"The fuck's this?"
Mildred walked over to the door, standing just a few inches from the puddle.
She reared back and with one foot, she kicked the door open.
"You'll thank me in a couple minutes," she said knowingly, just a tiny bit of his blood on her tongue.
She then followed his gaze over to Kathleen, which then connected to Kathleen and followed her gaze, ping ponging finally to the dark puddle coming from under the door.
"The fuck's this?"
Mildred walked over to the door, standing just a few inches from the puddle.
She reared back and with one foot, she kicked the door open.
Kathleen stared at the body before her. She stared. Frozen. Kathleen wanted to scream, run, drop to the ground. It was an instant high-ruiner. A fight-flight-freeze response.
Kathleen finally made a sound. She tried to say 'What the fuck?' But it came out more like- "WHADAFUH?!?"
Kathleen screamed, as the situation finally dawned on them. Of what was happening.
Jesus fucking Christ, shit just got real.
Kathleen finally made a sound. She tried to say 'What the fuck?' But it came out more like- "WHADAFUH?!?"
Kathleen screamed, as the situation finally dawned on them. Of what was happening.
Jesus fucking Christ, shit just got real.
Angelo was similarly frozen for a few seconds until Kathleen's scream pierced right through his head, making him jerk away in the opposite direction and reminding him viscerally of Zora's screaming the previous day.
"Christ," he gasped. He'd heard the names, yeah, but- shit, all that blood. It put into perspective what he must have looked like to Zora and John.
Reasserting his grip on the khanda and hefting it in front of him just in case some slasher villain decided to pop out of the newly opened doorway, he stepped up next to Mildred. "Is it- y'know, can you tell who it is?" His voice wasn't shaking as much as he'd thought it might, and in spite of everything, he felt a little good about that. Down an eye, head still wanting to spin from the first hit of weed and Moldy Mildred planting one on him, but Angelo was as steady as one could really hope to be in the moment.
He held onto that. He needed something to hold onto besides the sword at the ready. "Is it somebody from the announcement, or-?" He let the question hang unfinished.
"Christ," he gasped. He'd heard the names, yeah, but- shit, all that blood. It put into perspective what he must have looked like to Zora and John.
Reasserting his grip on the khanda and hefting it in front of him just in case some slasher villain decided to pop out of the newly opened doorway, he stepped up next to Mildred. "Is it- y'know, can you tell who it is?" His voice wasn't shaking as much as he'd thought it might, and in spite of everything, he felt a little good about that. Down an eye, head still wanting to spin from the first hit of weed and Moldy Mildred planting one on him, but Angelo was as steady as one could really hope to be in the moment.
He held onto that. He needed something to hold onto besides the sword at the ready. "Is it somebody from the announcement, or-?" He let the question hang unfinished.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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Ruggahissy
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Mildred stared at the part of the body she could see, torn up, bleeding, organs spilling out.
She stared. Her brain was offline. She didn't feel anything.
Then someone knocked her back online with their shrieking.
Mildread took a step back and bumped into Angelo, which startled her enough to cause her to give a small yelp. Fear sliced through her hazy high like an industrial fan blowing the fog away.
"I d- I d- I'm not s-sure," she stammered.
Mildred screwed her eyes shut, reached out blindly, and when her hand found the door, pulled it shut as if that would solve the problem.
"W-we -- What if we -- We have to find the others. We should go back," she said to Kathleen, shakily. She suddenly felt vulnerable without having Tully next to her. He'd know what to do about this. Yeah, he would. And then it would be OK once he said what was what.
She stared. Her brain was offline. She didn't feel anything.
Then someone knocked her back online with their shrieking.
Mildread took a step back and bumped into Angelo, which startled her enough to cause her to give a small yelp. Fear sliced through her hazy high like an industrial fan blowing the fog away.
"I d- I d- I'm not s-sure," she stammered.
Mildred screwed her eyes shut, reached out blindly, and when her hand found the door, pulled it shut as if that would solve the problem.
"W-we -- What if we -- We have to find the others. We should go back," she said to Kathleen, shakily. She suddenly felt vulnerable without having Tully next to her. He'd know what to do about this. Yeah, he would. And then it would be OK once he said what was what.
"Who's with you?" Angelo asked dumbly. Like okay, they were just going to gloss over the horror movie scene in there? Yeah, yeah they were. It was still burned into his brain, but it didn't look real. It looked like haunted house special effects and shit. If not for where they were, what he'd heard, he would have been sure that it was just some kind of sick prank that had been left for him to find.
He adjusted and tightened his grip on the khanda. His palms were sweating, all of a sudden.
"...Yeah. Yeah, let's go find your friends, and then we can- check it out together, you know, because-"
Angelo swallowed thickly. His mouth was dry, and he didn't know how much of that was the weed and how much was- that. "If they weren't on the announcement, then whoever did this might still be hanging around in here."
He adjusted and tightened his grip on the khanda. His palms were sweating, all of a sudden.
"...Yeah. Yeah, let's go find your friends, and then we can- check it out together, you know, because-"
Angelo swallowed thickly. His mouth was dry, and he didn't know how much of that was the weed and how much was- that. "If they weren't on the announcement, then whoever did this might still be hanging around in here."
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
Kathleen wanted to throw up. Badly.
"Fuck-fuck! We can't just fucking gloss over that, that person is fucking DEAD. Dead. Are you really going to fucking - just gloss over that?!"
Kathleen switched to a bit of scared-anger-desperation. What the FUCK.
"Fuck. Just fuck!"
This was a sobering moment. The clarity is coming back as adrenaline kicks in. God, Kathleen feels like she is going to throw up, but nothing comes. Just a pit feeling in her gut, as the gravity of the situation pulls her heart into her stomach. Way past her stomach, as if the entire gravitational pull of the Earth has been concentrated into pulling on her heart.
Kathleen suddenly lost feeling of anything above the neck. Lightheaded, but not feint. Was she dissociating? Or just trying to block out what she just saw?
"We-fuck-we just-fuck. There's someone out there who just fucking KILLED that person. That person is out there. WITH us. In this fucking building! What the fuck."
We're all going to fucking die. That same thought floated through Kathleen's skull, and the weed prevented her from thinking any clearer than that. We are all going to get brutally stabbed and eviscerated until we die.
She needs to get the fuck out of here.
"Fuck-fuck! We can't just fucking gloss over that, that person is fucking DEAD. Dead. Are you really going to fucking - just gloss over that?!"
Kathleen switched to a bit of scared-anger-desperation. What the FUCK.
"Fuck. Just fuck!"
This was a sobering moment. The clarity is coming back as adrenaline kicks in. God, Kathleen feels like she is going to throw up, but nothing comes. Just a pit feeling in her gut, as the gravity of the situation pulls her heart into her stomach. Way past her stomach, as if the entire gravitational pull of the Earth has been concentrated into pulling on her heart.
Kathleen suddenly lost feeling of anything above the neck. Lightheaded, but not feint. Was she dissociating? Or just trying to block out what she just saw?
"We-fuck-we just-fuck. There's someone out there who just fucking KILLED that person. That person is out there. WITH us. In this fucking building! What the fuck."
We're all going to fucking die. That same thought floated through Kathleen's skull, and the weed prevented her from thinking any clearer than that. We are all going to get brutally stabbed and eviscerated until we die.
She needs to get the fuck out of here.