[She couldn’t blame them, really. But boy, oh boy, did she want to.]
[....can’t accept someone of your status in a position like that... If it weren’t with the children, it might be different, but you must understand...]
[So much for Schoolmarm Ferris. Sitting here, now, mulling about it over a cup of watery coffee substitute at an empty table in the dining hall, yeah. She does understand. She’s broken, crazy, erratic---definitely not someone to be let near young impressionable minds. What if she were to snap and mistake them all for aliens or something?]
[The worst part is, she knows she could, that their fears are totally reasonable in her case. Wasn’t it just a few nights ago that she was curled up on a bathroom floor with Bobbie having to re-explain the end of the world to her? Not classroom behavior. Barely even sane behavior, by any standard.]
[It just sucks ass, is all. She’s back to square one, or negative one if she thinks about the payment she already made to Pax with nothing to compensate her wild ten-credit spending spree---unqualified and useless, and unable to afford more books unless she comes up with something quick.]
A life without books, that’s terrible. [She goes up a register to reply to herself.] No, being on the street, that’s terrible. [No one’s obviously listening, that she notices, and she’s crazy anyway, right? She continues, reciting from the film with both voices.] No! Books are like oxygen. Reading’s a many splendored thing. Books lift us up where we belong---all you need are books. [Higher.] Please, don’t start that again--- All you need are books... [And then, just humming, ‘cause she’s already pushed the game as far as she’s willing to, and actually singing is just one step too far, even for her.]
[She’s definitely got to be, without exception, the biggest dork left on the planet.]
