". . .God, could you BE any more passe?"

"I know, oh my god!"

"Hey, what do you guys think about Machiavelli's political statements in the Prince?"

The four other girls stopped dead in their tracks and stared at Stacy. Hanging her head, Stacy shuffled off into the crowd.

"So anyway, then she- -"

"Wait-" Trish halted her friends, looking dead ahead and sneering. "It's Trevor Sansby."

"What a geek!"

"I know! He's like, the biggest outcast in the school!"

"Guys, I was thinking, why do we all stop every day when we see him and talk about what a nerd he is? It seems a little redundant and pointless to me." There was a long silence. "Should I just walk away dejectedly?"

"Yes." A small pause followed as she did. "Anyway, what a hopeless loser!"

"I don't know about that. . ."

"What did you say!?"

"I'm just saying, I bet one of us could make him cool. With our help, he might be able to become the most popular guy in school."

"Would you be willing to put money on that?"

"Maybe I would."

"Alright, I'll bet you two hundred bucks that by- -"

"STOP!" screamed a voice from the crowd. A man in an odd uniform stepped out, standing in front of them. By the sweat on his reddened face and the way he was wheezing, he'd obviously run there.

"What the hell- -"

"You're launching into a crappy teen movie. I'm going to have to ask you to stop."

"Who are- -"

"Just don't do it again. 'Losers' don't need you patronizing them, and the world certainly doesn't need more stupid teen stories like the one you're about to cause. So stop it, or face the penalty." Without another word, the strange man backed into the crowd.

The three girls blinked, not entirely sure what to make of what had just happened. "Whatever. Wanna go stand in a corner and giggle as people pass us?"

"Sure!"