Guidance Counselor's Office, Friday

There was no huge mess in Electroclash's office today. Neither was she sneezing. Nah, she just had her go-go booted feet up on her desk while she was leaning back in her chair, texting Don. He was getting ready for yet another bodyguard gig. Some posh foreign royal. It was cracking stuff.

Some more emails had gone out, and Electroclash had to wonder whether the current ridiculous camp accommodations had traumatized anyone to the point of cracking, yet.

Because that would be hilarious.

[ooc: Open!]