"Okay people. Let's get it on!" Mayer screeched.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Mayer, I don't believe in student-teacher relationships." Someone from the back yelled. Mr. Mayer exhaustedly rolled his eyes.He flipped through the script.

"This is crap." I heard him mumble to himself. I stifled a laugh. He glanced over at me.

"I didn't think that the director was supposed to be able to object to the storyline."

"Well, I mean, you have a script, too. It's crap, I mean, how realistic is this?! Really, if given the chance, I would turn this piece of wanabe-literary-turned-onscreenplay junk into a large pile of ashes in my toilet. I hate this."He rolled his eyes.

"Didn't they ask you to review it before they gave it to you?"

"You know, you'd think they would, huh? But I guess they think that a lame, trashy romance like this is entertainment."

"Oh, come on, Mr. Mayer... It's not that bad." I tried to be a bit of consolation. He shrugged like a stubborn five-year-old.

"I guess not, but it's just that there were so many other, WORTHY candidates for this play-production student write. I suppose I'm just bitter because the deserving writer got pissed on, excuse my language." Mr. Mayer continued to look at the script at disbelief. "God, this is crap!" he sighed angrily as he tossed the script across the floor.

"Well, if you don't mind me asking, who did you think was the deserving writer?" I said, looking around at the crowd of uninterested teenagers, on their cell-phones, reapplying lip-gloss, checking out other uninterested teenagers, sleeping.

"Genevieve Sario." My eyes lit up. Was he talking about Midge?

"Really? What was it about?"

"Well, it was about two best friends, a boy and a girl. They were one of those best friends since they were five years old deal, you know? And the girl goes and gets a boyfriend when she's a senior in high school... They stay together for a while and the boy eventually gets a girlfriend. The four graduate and drift and they meet years later at a school reunion. The boy is successful, married, and questionably happy. The girl has traveled the world and has become a novelist, renowned for her trashy, love novels (Kind of like our current script). Boy and girl start to hang out again, fall in love again, but don't ever end up together. And even though it sounds like just another trashy play, it's really not. The script was written great, the characters were so developed, it was funny.... It would make people laugh AND cry." He rolled his eyes.

"That sounds great, actually. Why don't you just switch?" I asked.

"Can't do that. We've already all the funding for this specific play."

"Oh." I sighed. "Well..." I began again. "What if...." I smirked.

"What if what?" Mayer asked.

"Well, you couldn't produce a play if it was already published by a different writer, right?"

"True," Mayer smiled.

"Well, you know, I think I might have seen this play on one of those, uhm... online writing sites, you know? So, I mean, I wouldn't want for us to screw up our reputation of honesty. I would hate for everyone to see an already pre-published piece of work..." I smiled. Mr. Mayer finally understood.

"OH! yes, well, I would have for the public to have to suffer... I mean, due to our school's dishonesty." He tried to hide a smirk. I leaned in closer to Mr. Mayer,

"I'll have Midge... I mean Genevieve write a little sumthin' sumthin' similar to this play... And then you can just take hers. Sounds like a plan?" I asked. Mr. Mayer smiled. He tisked me, but he knew he couldn't resist trashing this 'play'.

"Bad. But then again... We never had this conversation, did we?" He asked as he cleared his throat.

"No. Never!" I smiled as I leaned back. "Later Mr. Mayer... I have to go." I smiled as I walked out.

"Everyone's got to go!"I heard him yell. "I've just been informed about a copywrite problem with our play... So, I'll see you all tomorrow." Mr. Mayer yelled amongst the semi-interested kids. They all left.


"So, you up for it?" I asked into the receiver.

"No shit, sherlock, you think so? I'm stoked! Mr. Mayer really liked it?" Midge said in reply.

"Yep. He said that by not getting picked, you were getting pissed on. So, can you perhaps, write a piece similar to the one that pissed on you?"

"Definately. Then, I'll hack into it to change the dates of when it was published, like... how about 1996?" I could hear her smiling.

"Sounds devine." I said with false elegance. I fingered two green pills and swallowed them. Mmm, I thought... Tastes like cherry. "Anyway, why didn't you tell me you went for the student-write?" I asked.

"Because I knew you'd get me all excited, and if I didn't get picked, well, you know, I may or may not have needed to kill you."

"Ha. Well, get on that, now. Later, loser."

"Bye, idiot."