EVENT: The Talk, or Yes, This Is Mandatory

[Germaine Sharpe]

Gerri wasn’t at all interested in Sex Ed. She had already gotten the basics of the birds and the bees from a course her parents made her take back home in seventh grade, and she wasn’t at the point where it was fun to make fun of The Talk. There were so many other important things the thirteen-year-old could be doing. Instead, she chose to chase a butterfly in circles around the courtyard. Her intentions actually were to get some homework done, but when she spotted the vibrant insect on her way to the student lounge (she wasn’t aiming to be distracted, honest) she abandoned her backpack and books on the lawn and started to torment the unfortunate thing. When she did a sharp turn in hopes of pouncing on the butterfly as it flew over her head, she noticed a familiar figure through a building window.

“Sammy!” she squeaked, her voice full of excitement, sunshine, and rainbows. The butterfly was left to its own devices as she sprinted for the building’s door, leaving her bag and textbooks behind. As she burst into the hallway, she noticed Sammy wasn’t anywhere to be found. Oh! But the doors to the auditorium were sliding shut, and she could hear Dr. Neville’s voice leaking out into the hall. Figuring Sammy went in there for the lecture Germaine ran up to the doors and put her ear to them. Sure enough, she could hear Sammy’s voice, although the words were indistinct and she couldn’t make out what he had said.

Flinging the doors open, the girl began to shout the teenager’s name but the word caught in her throat when she saw another girl slap him across the face. “Sammy!” she gasped. Gerri ran to him, jumping over seats instead of bothering with the aisle, and slammed into him for a sloppy hug.

“What was—ewww,” she crinkled her nose, “Sammy, you smell funny. Did you take a shower this morning?” Germaine pulled her shirt over the bottom half of her face in an attempt to block the smell and flopped into the seat next to him.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean hadn’t been in charge of chaperones; he was only in charge of curriculum. If he’d had his say, Eli wouldn’t have been forced to attend – again – and Anya would have been on-call with Willow. Instead, he had Eli…and Chase, which was more helpful. Replying to Eli’s mental plea, he sent, It usually takes two hours; you know that. But you’re free to step out if you want to, since Chase is here too. Whatever you need. The psychiatrist wasn’t here to put other faculty on the spot.

Students on the other hand...the need for putting students on the spot manifested with Samuel Rixon’s outburst, followed by November’s physical response. The odds were in favor of Samuel being under the influence of some substance or another, which Sean hoped merely because if the boy were that immature sober, he would never graduate either, and Vincent Verax was more than enough. Without missing a beat, he replied loud enough to be overheard, “This is neither an invitation nor a challenge, but as marijuana affects potency, I highly doubt that you could. But since you don’t have a consenting partner, I’d advise keeping your comments to yourself before I have Doctor Campbell sweep your room for contraband. All right?”

Sean was fully prepared to skip through the basic mechanics when Germaine arrived; the girl was only thirteen, and might be foggy on mechanics...as was Misato, although that boy would benefit from a private lecture. And Germaine would have to leave before the invariable raunchiness broke out, from Sidra, for example, or Sam growing worse, or any other student who got antsy.

In these moments, he envied Josh his glasses, as it would give him something to do with his hands. Setting the book down to the appropriate page, he glanced briefly, then turned on the projector to two simple diagrams, of a man’s sexual responses on the bottom half, and a woman’s on the top half. “I’m going to briefly go over the stages of sexual arousal, and I’m going to assume that nobody needs a breakdown of shapes and sizes. I have a book up here if anybody has questions about positions, and I’ll tell you right now that the Position of the Day calendars, posters, and books are a waste of money. We’ll start with women first; the stages of sexual arousal…”

[Tobias Davidson]

"Mr Davidson would you mind telling me what you know about sexual intercourse?" "Well... I know that copulating prey make for an easier meal." "..." "Well that and-" "Sexual Education, two hours, the auditorium, mandatory." "Alright then."

It hadn't been even a day since he'd been drawn from the ocean and into the first school he had attended in almost half a decade and the first subject he was to be schooled on was "the birds and the bees". Tobias for the most part knew the basics of sexual education. He knew what parts a woman had and how they worked when paired with the parts of a man. He'd been given "the talk" during his travels by a school teacher in Australia. Tobias doubted however that he had as much in depth knowledge of the subject as the others.

Tobias would be making his way into the auditorium several minutes after Zach. The dark haired young man was freshly showered and wore a pair of black cargo pants, a plain black tee shirt and black sneakers. The hour long wait for Zach to get out of the bathtub had been pushing it even for the normally patient teenager, something he would let his roommate know by tossing him a glare across the room that he'd brought all the way from the jungles of Brazil. At the same time "loud thoughts" would inform the instructor that he'd have been there sooner if it hadn't been for his room mate holding up the shower.

After a few moments of looking over the few spare seats that were left, Tobias would make his way over to the empty chair next to Sidra that Zach had rejected. Leaning forward, Tobias would direct his attention to the penis and vagina gifted upon the group by the projecter and realize that he hadn't missed anything important. It was upon that point that Tobias would lean back into his chair, let his animal bite and claw mark covered arms drift over the back of his chair and simply watch, listen... and wonder what the hell smelled like cannabis.

[Rima Donavon]

‘Why!?’ Rima wailed to herself in her thoughts. It was one thing to be a couple minutes late, but this? More like ten minutes. She’d never been to church, but the sinking feeling in her gut kept making her imagine it to be something like walking in, and having everybody turn, glare, and focus on you. That would be terrible.

The idea of the “Talk”, didn’t bother her badly. Yes, it was an uncomfortable subject for virtually every child on the face of the planet, but the Talk itself didn’t bother her. Her Mother had explained most of it when she was eight. But after her Mother had passed away, and she’d been passed around to Therapists, Doctors, ect, you kind of got used to be asked some of the basic things. Heck, there’d even been one Therapist that’d gone as far as to ask if she was having psychological problems (hearing voices) because she’d had some sort of sexual trauma when she was younger. Not the case at all, but just that idea had made her cringe.

So, as she walked down the abandoned hall and came to the door, she was hesitant for a moment, and then cracked it open. The metallic sound that emanated from it was neither a squeak, nor a boom, but something in between that sounded closer to the squeak. She forgot to close it in her haste to just get in the room when she heard ‘arousal’ come from Sean’s mouth. Grey-blue eyes flashed as Rima spun, quickly clenching her hand in mid air. The door froze six inches or so from being closed, being pulled by a silent hand.

Where had that come from!? Oh wait, she wasn’t finished. It would be easy to rip the thing right of the hinges and chuck it across the auditorium, but she had no intention of such. Rima slowly released the mental pull, relaxing her hand painfully slow. By the time her hand was fully limp, terrible cramps rolled through the joints, and a moment later, sure enough, a quick mental throb, though it subsided. Odd. Maybe the training was actually paying off...

Rima straightened, and abruptly, muffling her footsteps as much as possible, proceeded foreword and took a seat. Fifteen, she’d just turned fifteen a couple weeks ago. In any case, might as well just get this over with. She sat back in her seat, crossing her legs at the knees. The white fedora was atop her head, and her black locks were loose for once. Black jeans and a dark maroon tee shirt. It worked for this.

Her eyes turned to Sean, she wasn’t even paying attention two who she was sitting near, since in her row nobody was sitting next to her yet. Though somebody was directly in front of her, and it appeared to be Tobias. ‘Maturity time.’ Rima thought to herself, resting her chin on her propped up hand as her eyes turned back to Sean from wandering the room.

[Sidra Cotton]

Eyes shifted sideways just enough to see who had sat beside her through peripheral vision. Male. Dark hair. Interesting visible scars. And not a glance at her beyond finding a place to sit. Had she lost her touch? Or was being in a school of freaks just making her blend in more than she was used to back home.

Crap!

That would have to be fixed but she had no idea how to go about fixing it at this point. Maybe if she amped up her corsetry to a new level, used more vinyls and leathers. That would mean spending more for the materials though and sales weren't that good in the present economy. There were the usual steampunks who stalked her site and the cosplayers and lolitas who were desperate for custom made quality corsets. But half of them didn't have the money they needed for her work. So, sales were down and she couldn't wear her stock. That was bad business.

Returning her gaze to the projector and noticing a distinct lack of any piercings on either the female or male anatomy. Not that everyone had piercings there, she didn't, but it made things more interesting. No tattoos either.

Oh god, arousal? What the hell did people need to know about that? There were erogenous zones, lots of them and everyone reacted differently. The cun- puss- vag got slick with an acidic mucus and the guy was able to penetrate.

Whoo.

There were far more interesting ways of explaining that beyond slides and a dull talk.

“He should show porn.” Sidra muttered, “At least then he'd know everyone was paying attention.” How many different sites were out there with “free” porn for download or streaming? Pornhub, youporn, redtube, 8tube, so many different sites, and that wasn't even counting the file share sites like rapidshare and what not. It'd be easy as hell to get “amateur” stuff or even “tutorials” on how to go down on someone or the proper way to use a flogger.

Not that Sidra knew about those sites. Oh noooo, she was too young to have searched them out and watched a few clips with any form of interest. And certainly not the bondage or fetish categories. Nope. She was 'underage' and thus according to a lot of states, still thought boys and sex were 'icky'.

Snickering over her own thoughts Si, leaned forward, prepared to call out for some “live demonstrations”.

[Ann Hudgins]

She was writhing, her own embarrassment clouded around her like fog, and it was hard to believe that no one else could see it, but it no one else was an empath, so it really was understandable. But still. Her cheeks were nearly beat red, her ears were warm. She brought her feet up in the seat with her and wrapped her arms around her legs, and leaned against the wall. This thing couldn't get over soon enough.

The people that came in...and the one kid that yelled out caused her to actually bite her lip, those few that laughed near her caused her to titter as well, but not voluntarily. The idea of watching someone do...that was insanely impossible to think about. And not just because of the emotional turmoil that would no doubt fill the room at such an...event...but because she did not want to see anyone or anything naked. At all.

It was at that moment the projector showed those images and her face immediately dropped into her hands, her eyes shut tightly. Oh my god, I don't want to be here... she muttered over and over again. It wasn't like any knowledge she got would actually be helpful in the slightest. Ann was just fine with the idea of never having to put this knowledge to good use. She would die a prudy virgin, and at the moment she was ready to swear complete chastity and never talk about or look at anything like this again.

[Eli Morrison]

The librarian responded to the psychiatrist, sorry that he had even brought it up. "Yes, I know. And I'll be fine." After all, it wasn't as if he was disgusted by the concept of sex. He was just uninterested.

Eli got along with most of the people at Hammel, in a "You don't cause chaos and destruction in my library and I don't publicly verbally eviscerate you" kind of way. And kids that were at least somewhat studious and had respect for his books he was downright friendly with. (Yes, the librarian did have some actual friends, but his inner circle consisted of himself, Midori, and his dog.) So when Zac sidled up next to him and mimicked his posture, Eli looked at him sideways and sighed. "I'm a chaperone. I'm only here to keep people from being stupid." And if he could have gotten out of it, he would have. Hell, he would have rather stayed and entertained Vincent himself than sit through this mortifying lecture again.

Okay, well, probably not.

He was distracted by the ruckus caused by Rixon, the pyrokinetic who had managed to become Eli's sword enemy. He was the one student completely banned from his library. Of course, he appeared to be under the influence, again. It was a surprise the boy didn't set his own clothes on fire, he was always so impaired. (No, Eli didn't have a particularly high opinion of Sammy. How could you tell?) He grit his teeth, ready to kick the boy out, if just to help his friend--Ember, whom Eli actually liked--save face. Luckily, Sean took care of putting the little cretin in his place.

He continued to look out over the audience, impassively observing the students. Most looked a mixture of bored, interested, and embarrassed. But one person caught his eye in particular: the girl in the back row. "I'll be back in a moment." Eli muttered to Zac, then slowly made his way around the auditorium until he came up behind Ann. He didn't touch her, just tapped the back of her chair to get her attention, then said in a low, calm voice, "Do you want to step into the hall with me for a moment?" He was willing to use her as an excuse to get out of there, as it looked like she really needed it.

[Josef Paerson]

Josef was staying carefully focused on the lecture, his page already filled with a few neat notes that he thought might be important.
He had found the best way to deal with unexpected situations was to pay no attention to them, so any rowdy students nearby were carefully ignored.

He was, thus far, a little disappointed. Though, of course, the mechanics were the 'important' part to most people, Josef wasn't finding out anything that he considered interesting, and he certainly hadn't come any closer to working out what the fuss was all about.
Hopefully that part would come next, he decided, as he watched the slides with an un-embarrassed, rather academic eye.

[Samuel Rixon]

“Hey! That was love spit!” Sammy protested as Ember wiped her cheek. The protest was followed by a string of giggles, and a proud nod when she accused him of being late. “I’m always late!” Oh yes Ember, yes he did. “Aw c’mon Emby, I’d die if I didn’t smoke it before I came to this thing! Makes it SO MUCH MORE FUN.” There went his volume control. Being disruptive. It was an art. And Sam had it down cold.

And then came his little offer. Too bad Ember or Sean didn’t find it nearly as funny as he did. While he was grinning and looking proud of himself, he felt the soft, fuzzy sting of a slap. Wait. Who slapped him? Ember? He focused on her and grinned. “Hey, that was sexy. Do it again!” No, Sam. No.

Thankfully, a small distraction got his attention away from trying to convince his best friend that slapping was sexy. He turned when he heard his name and grinned when he saw Anni (from the pond, right? Maybe? Yes?). “Hey shrimp!” The slap was completely forgotten as he returned the hug with a little more force than necessary. In his state of mind, he just grinned at her question and shook his head. “Naw. Well, I didn’t shower either. I just smoked.” Very nice, love. Teach the thirteen year old all about your terrible habits. I’m sure Ember will be thrilled with you.

Really, Sam’s chances of graduating were only marginally better than Vincent’s. His maturity level were at all time lows, his habits just made it worse. But when Sean addressed him, he scowled, his mouth falling open to protest. But it quickly shut again when he heard the consequences of speaking his mind. Dr. Campbell in his room? Oh god. He’d probably find an entire trash bag full of things he really shouldn’t have. So he leaned back and quieted.

At least until the slide came up on the projector. No, he couldn’t help himself. He just started giggling and pointed to the lower half of the picture. “Penis!”

(I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.)

[Zachary LaRousse]

Zac’s frustration about having to go to Dr. Neville’s mandatory sex ed talk was only made worse by the arrival of the misfit, as he’d like to call him, Samuel Rixon. While Zac can be pretty much shake off anyone’s overzealousness and utter stupidity with a simple witty comment or a snide remark, the misfit and his best friend, misfit#2 Vincent Verax, had always been a black hole to him. It’s like they don’t care really; no matter what he says, they still do the things they do, even in front of Zac himself. He’s not sure whether they’re simply ignoring his comments or they’re just super dense. One thing’s for sure though – all hope is lost of the two boys and it’ll be best for him not to bother with them anymore.

Unfortunately for Zac, fate likes playing with people’s lives and keeps sticking the two in Zac’s business, or Zac in the two’s business, whichever way you prefer to look at it. He cringes at Sam’s sloppy kiss, pitying Ember, thinking she deserves someone a bit more, someone with at least an IQ of a 15-year old. He rolled his eyes at another one of Samuel’s absurd outbursts, turning to Eli as he excused himself. “Leaving so early? I envy you,” he told Eli as he went off. He was surprised when Eli stopped by Ann the mood ring and left the auditorium together. “Oh Eli, you sexy beast,” Zac laughed, “Now I envy you even more.”

Without Eli by his side, Zac resolved to finally take a seat. Instead of a seat, Zac found himself a glare from one of his roommates, Tobias the modern-day Tarzan. Though he was taken aback that Tarzan knew how to glare like a modern man would, he quickly got over his shock and replied with one of his favorite expressions, a sneer. His relationship with his other roommates is already rocky to say the least; another roommate turning against him doesn’t seem too bad.

With the talk slowly moving towards the climax of the talk (so to speak), empty seats are slowly becoming extinct. No time to choose now, just grab what you can. “I hope this seat isn’t taken,” he whispered, hoping not attract unwanted attention. Fortunately, the seat he grabbed had not-so-shabby seatmates. He knew he recently talked to his seatmate quite some time ago (the time he destroyed his phone with a single step) but he can’t seem to remember his name. Was it James? Jasper? Jero? ‘Oh screw it,’ he thought. He wasn’t planning on making any conversation right now, so why bother with the whole formality thing?

Zac could only drop his head and slump back into his seat as the talk moved forward. Adding Sam’s outburst to the mix only made him want to vanish even more. “Why can’t I be late enough?” he mumbled.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean went through the stages of arousal for women and then for men, before giving a brief overview of other mechanics and the usual points about what can and cannot result in pregnancy. And then came the brief overview of the scalar conception of sexual orientation, where there are gray areas rather than simple black and white of heterosexuality.

In the midst of all of this, there was yet another interruption from the pyrokinetic. Well, nobody could fairly accuse Samuel Rixon of being too smart for his own good. With a mental sigh, and without skipping a beat, he replied, “Is there something wrong with yours, Sam?” He didn’t give the boy a chance to respond before moving on, lest he make for additional distractions. He needed to get through the less pleasant aspects of this lecture before he could move on to questions.

Turning on the projector, he began to show the slides about the different STIs. Admittedly, some slides were more graphic than others, and they were a scare tactic: not to frighten students from sex, but to caution them to be safe about it. Slide after slide, as he explained the different infections, where they were curable, the symptoms, and finally, after exhausting the matter, he reminded them, “Use protection. Always use protection.” None of the students were old enough that he would toss out the monogamy caveat. “And remember, consent isn’t assumed, so if you don’t know, ask.”

Turning off the projector, he turned back to the audience. “Anyone who isn’t required to be here can leave now. For everyone else, I’m going to break out the question box, unless someone wants to ask a question on the spot. Any takers?”

[Sidra Cotton]

Protection, huh? As Dr. Neville's talk continued a rather evil smile grew on the gothic teen's face. Her fingers drummed against the armrest of the chair impatiently waiting for the open questions. Assuming there would be. The old man might be too much of a coward to open the floor up to people. Sure he'd put the question box out, and told people to THINK questions at him, but was he willing to face down someone who wasn't afraid of the popular opinion?

At least not in the same way most people were.

The slides for the STI's were gross, but she hadn't seen the blue waffle flash by, so it was also mostly dull. Scare tactics rarely worked on her, and it would have to be worse than the suspension hangings she'd seen done that had gone horribly horribly wrong. A super-bad case of herpes was nothing. Besides, her dad was a mortician. She'd seen much worse on his table.

Almost before Dr. Neville was done opening the floor to questions, Sidra was out of her seat and standing, one arm casually hanging against her side and the other playing with the spike collar she wore. There was no D or O ring visable so it was purely decorative and not a display of submission or ownership in any way.

“Dr. Neville,” her voice was deceptively curious. A far more difficult task than she was willing to admit with the laughter and eagerness clamped down hard behind her eyes. “You mentioned 'protection' before and reinforced it's need with the slides. Do you consider the latex body paint that can be used to cover the penis a good form of 'protection'? Or how about the full bodysuits made out of different PVC materials and different grades of latex?”

This was what she'd been waiting for. Almost. He'd given her something to play off of, that much was for certain, but it wasn't the same as demanding 'live demonstrations' for the arousal portion of the talk. But, she was absolutely certain she'd be able to make him uncomfortable. He was a teacher, after all, and old. If he was ever into kink, it was probably something lame and main-stream.

She had several images in her mind from the different sites she had gone to in her own time. The full body suites complete with gimp mask and ball gag. The price tag on such things was outrageous, but if you were a kinkster and that was what tripped your trigger, you figured out how to buy it. It wasn't what got her going, personally, but she knew about it anyway. Knowledge, after all, was power.

[Ann Hudgins]

She wasn't talking to herself to calm down, yet. But that was slowly approaching. She also wasn't rocking back and forth, so to the observer she wasn't completely crazy, just small and curled up into a ball. She drew in several breaths and thought back to all of her recent training and calming techniques. She needed to imagine a shield of calming energy around herself and her emotions (just not the embarrassment) and then she would just be perfectly fine.

In a fluid motion her feet slid out of the seat and her elbows rested on her knees, she still held her face in her hands, her hair blocked off most of the world from sight. She drew in several deep breaths and began to build that shield inside her chakra when someone tapped onto the back of her seat. She gasped in surprise and turned to look at him, her face was almost it's normal color, though she was a little angry and shocked that someone had come all the way over to her to speak to her. She was even more surprised at what he said. A chance to leave?

Yes.

She nodded several times and stood quickly, not even glancing back to look apologetically at the few students that turned and looked at Eli's voice, or at Dr. Neville because she was leaving his seminar. But seriously... She followed him out of the room, but a students comment; Oh Eli, you sexy beast, now I envy you even more, caught her attention. She looked up at the person who 'saved' her and couldn't really be certain that was his name because she didn't know who that guy was. "What...did he mean by that?" She asked a little awkwardly.

Once outside the gym she let out the first deep breath in what seemed like an eternity when it really couldn't have been more than ten minutes since she went in the room. She let her back slide down the wall and she rubbed her eyes, glad that all the tittering and immaturity was behind her, and safely out of her range. "Oh, and thank you." She said looking up at him, very grateful for what he had done.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean knew in one sense that in offering to answer questions, he was also asking for trouble. One couldn’t take questions from teenagers, some of whom were curious, some of whom were in altered states, such as Sam, some of whom were unhappy about being there, some of whom were mortified, and some of whom just wanted to make chaos.

So when Sidra Cotton stood up to ask her questions, without relying on his telepathy, and despite not having the gift of precognition, he had a sense of what to expect. She wanted to test him. Since he wasn’t reading her mind, he couldn’t predict what, exactly, she would ask, but he wasn’t quite surprised when the questions came. They were a little technical in one sense, but he had to give her points for shock value, and dropping hints to everyone else that she knew so much more about sex than they did.

However, she didn’t know more about sex than he did. From either a medical or a practical standpoint.

When she finished, he adjusted the microphone to make sure that his answer would be projected, and for courtesy, he repeated her question back to her, for the benefit of others. “You actually provide an interesting segue in terms of people trying to cut corners and how creativity can trump function. Latex body paint, even when covering the penis, is not a substitute for a condom. It isn’t adequate enough to prevent infection, and as there is neither a well tip for the collection of sperm or spermicide to kill the sperm included, it isn’t useful against pregnancy. And with the PVC materials, if there isn’t any physical contact with the genitals, then there isn’t a problem, as that would fall into the category of safer sex activities. But that would depend on the activity. Did you have a style in mind?” He didn’t blink. “Talk to me after this ends; we can go into more detail.”

He then addressed the group at large. “I know that most of you are either embarrassed or find this ridiculous, but you need to be safe. I’m an optimist insofar as I think most people aren’t out to get you, but sex makes people selfish, it makes them take risks, and so you need to be the one to keep your head, always.”

Sean reached for an acrylic water bottle and a prophylactic, which he popped open and began to roll over the large bottle, stretching the rubber to its limits, but not breaking it. “When I was in school, people used to brag about how they couldn’t use condoms because they were too big to fit.” Holding the bottle up so everyone could see how massive an item could fit inside a standard condom, he said, “Never believe anyone who says that. Either they’re lying, or you’re sleeping with a horse, and trust me, you don’t want the consequences of either."

[Tobias Davidson]

As Samuel screamed out that most infamous of organs Tobias ceased to wonder who was responsible for the smell of cannabis and returned to lazing in the chair. Tobias did his best to ignore the urge to stare at the interesting looking gothette sitting next to him and instead focused on the other faces in the room.

While under normal circumstances the scar touched teenager would be bored out of his mind, Tobias had the luck of being in a room full of people that were to put it simply, quite fun to watch. Tobias had a knack for being able to read body language and practiced this ability for the first few minutes of the lecture. That was until Sidra started spoke with the same frustration in her voice that he felt at the staff for forcing him to attend the lecture.

“Yeah, that way we can all sit back and watch as the junky whips it out and beats it,” said Tobias with a bit of a sarcastic tone as he did his best to avoid the mental image that went along with those words.

As for the slides, Tobias was rather unimpressed. Like his “seat neighbor” Tobias was pretty much immune to everything presented to him with the intention to gross out. It wasn’t surprising really seeing that this was a teenager who’d been killing his meals for just about the entirety of his teenage years. Makes one wonder what he’s going to be like if some environmentalist nut starts showing a slideshow of a slaughterhouse. Let’s hope it’s somewhere near lunch if they do.

As the minutes drifted towards the end of class and Sidra finally took it upon herself to “test the teacher”, Tobias would find Sean’s response putting him in an awkward position. While he had never been the one to take part in juvenile antics such as the little gothette next to him, Tobias never let prey go to waste either, even in the metaphorical sense. So with the lecture seemingly at its end, Tobias would do what he did best with what that last bit of information… ambush.

“But professor, what if you can turn into a horse?”

He’d let the auditoriums imagination fill in the blanks.