Scenes from a paralell universe; FF8
by KaiserVonAlmasy

SCENE 1: Waazzup!

[Balamb Garden Cafeteria. Rinoa and Quistis are seated at a table, having finished eating lunch together and now just whittling away the rest of their lunch hour. Quistis is wearing light blue butt-hugger jeans and a pink baby t-shirt with “Princess” spelled out across the front. Her navel is exposed for all to see. Rinoa is wearing drag from an army surplus store, complete with beige beret.]

[Quistis is perusing the photos of various hardbodies in the latest issue of Hunk Magazine, when suddenly she squeals excitedly.]

Quistis: Oh, my, Gawd! Rinoa, look at this! Isn’t this guy sooo hot? [She thrusts the magazine with the picture of the hardbody in question into Rinoa’s face, in front of her tiny copy of The Little Red Book.]

Rinoa: He seems pretty hot. In a shallow sort of way.

Quistis: He is sooo totally cute! I have to write him a fan letter. Should I include my picture? Or would that be too desperate and slutty looking?

Rinoa: No, I think it would come off as confident. Guys like confident women. Assuming he’s a real guy.

Quistis: Like, what do you mean?

Rinoa: Well, he looks a little too “perfect” if you ask me. Almost as if some capitalist pig with a graphics program created a computer generated image of an attractive guy in order to use him to push a damagingly unattainable social idea unto the impressionable youth of this country. And then use the resulting insecurity to sell his worthless bourgeois products easier.

[Enter Zell, calm, mellow, and relaxed as always, almost sedate. He holds a wrapped hot dog in his right hand. Rinoa takes note of the hot dog.]

Zell: Hey, how’s it going?

Quistis: I have a new boyfriend. Look at him! [Shows Zell the picture in the magazine.] Isn’t he a total stud?

Zell: Your boyfriend, huh? Does he know this yet?

Rinoa: No. Are you really going to eat that hot dog? You do know what’s in them, right?

Zell: What, this? No. I can’t stand the hot dogs here. I think they’re awful.

Rinoa: I know they are, but I like them anyway.

Zell: Yeah, I remember you told me that. Here, if you want it, take it.

Rinoa: Thanks. There’s probably an addictive additive in them to ensure repeat customers. What can I say? I’m hooked.

Zell: [suddenly very awkward and shy] Yeah, um, actually, to be honest, um, uh, I got it for...

[Enter Fujin and Raijin, hand in hand. Raijin has his studded leather jacket, his white T-shirt, black jeans that seem way too tight and way too short, and his doc marten boots. Fujin has a long black dress on with a red circled A {anarchy logo} over the left side of the chest, and of course her bleached hair and freaky violet contact lenses.]

Quistis: Fujin! Oh, my, gawd, you have GOT to see this! [Shows Fujin the picture.] Isn’t he hot?

Fujin: Totally!

Quistis: He’s my new boyfriend!

Raijin: Wassup, Zell?

Zell: Not much. [ASIDE] Dude, you guys have the worst timing! I was just about to make my move on Rinoa.

Raijin: [NOT ASIDE, everyone can hear] Eh, you don’t have the guts to do it, we both know that.

Fujin: What?

Quistis: What are you talking about? What does Zell not have the guts to do?

[Rinoa doesn’t respond, as her mouth is full.]

[Zell’s eyes widen, as he is now on the spot. He quickly covers for himself.]

Zell: Um, enter the Triple Triad Tournament. [Raijin shoots an antagonistic smirk at Zell.]

Quistis: That is such a total dweeb thing to do. I would not be caught dead with a deck of some stupid battle cards! That trend is just sooo out of hand these days. It’s annoying.

Fujin: Totally.

[Enter Irvine, wearing glasses and a gray three-piece suit. His hair is meticulously jelled and oiled and groomed into a neat ponytail. He turns and looks at the gang, sneers contemptuously, but says nothing, and just walks on.]

Raijin: Geez, look out, it’s Irvine. Boy, if you ever want to bring a party to a screeching halt, there’s your man.

Quistis: Oh, my, gawd, he is such a jerk! And like, a super-nerd.

Zell: Yeah, absolutely.

Rinoa: Well, it’s not like he’s that bad a guy, but I wouldn’t hang out with him if I didn’t have to. I mean, he’s just so...what’s the word...

Fujin: Boring?

Rinoa: Yeah!

Zell: And takes things way too personally and way too seriously. He needs to lighten up.

Quistis: And lose that ponytail and suit. It is just sooo 1980’s to come to school looking like that.

Raijin: But of course, he’s not as bad as Selphie.

Fujin: True.

Quistis: Like, who is Selphie?

Raijin: Selphie! You know, that brooding chick that wears the black dress and the pale makeup all the time? Black nail polish, blood red lipstick, the whole nine yards of gothic.

Zell: Don’t forget the silly black cape she wears sometimes.

Quistis: Oh, my, gawd! I know who you’re talking about now! She is like sooo depressing to be around. Tackiest wardrobe I’ve ever seen. What is up with that cape?

Rinoa: Maybe she’s a superhero? Mild-mannered outcast student by day, fights crime by night? The Gothic Avenger!

[Everybody laughs a little. Except Zell, who laughs noticeably harder.]

[Suddenly the sound of a loud boom box thumping out a phat bass line takes over the room.]

[Enter Squall, with baggy black pants, sunglasses, and a ghetto blaster cranked up full blast in his left hand. He jumps up on an unoccupied table in the cafeteria.]

Squall: [singing] Everybody say Ho-o!

[The other patrons of the cafeteria respond in kind. They always do. Squall’s extroverted antics are amusing to all.]

Squall: [singing] Everybody say yea-ah!

[The room responds again.]

Squall: [singing] Everybody say boom-shaka-laka!

[The room complies.]

Squall: [singing] Say boom-shaka-laka!

[The room complies again.]

Squall: [singing] There ain’t no party like a Balamb party cuz the Balamb party don’t stop, sing it!

[The room sings it back, word for word.]

Squall: [singing] I said there ain’t no party like a Balamb party cuz the Balamb party don’t stop, sing it!

[The room sings it back, word for word, again.]

Squall: [raps, sounding like the lost Beastie Boy]

Well here I come now to rock the m.i.c.
Bringing rhymes that tell how it all really be
When you feel my flow you’ll wanna shake that ass
Pump up the jam and burn somma that grass
You know this white boy can bring the funk
Keep it all real cuz’ I ain’t no punk
I bring the beat that make ya move ya feet
And I spit out da rhymes that make ya stop and think

Peace Out!

[Squall turns off the ghetto blaster and steps off the table to a vigorous applause from everyone in the cafeteria. Except Irvine, who just stormed angrily out of the cafeteria, probably to snitch to Headmaster Sid. Squall notices but plays it cool, and sits down around the table with the rest of the gang.]

Squall: Yo yo yo wassup? How’s my posse?

Fujin: Fine.

Rinoa: How do you come up with that stuff?

Squall: I gots da flow, girl! You know dat. Hey, y’all goin’ to da dance next week?

Zell: Yeah, sure.

Rinoa: Probably.

Quistis: Totally!

Raijin: I don’t know. School dances aren’t really our kind of scene, if you know what I mean. Maybe we will though, we haven’t decided yet.

Squall: I feel ya, I feel ya. So, which one of you ladies need a date? Hey, Quisty girl, you lookin’ FINE today. How’s about you an’ me hook up for dat dance, you and me, whaddya say girl?

Quistis: Too late Squall. I am, like, spoken for. Check this guy out! He’s my new boyfriend! [She shows Squall the picture of the man she’s been gushing over all lunch.]

Squall: What? You go for those whack boyband fools? Whatever! Forget you girl! Yo, Fujin, how about you n’ me then, since Raijin don’t wanna go? You and me girl! Damn, you hotter than an egg on the sidewalk in summer. Damn!

Fujin: Sure.

Raijin: [alarmed] What?

[Fujin smiles at him.]

Fujin: Kidding!

Squall: Yeah, fool, I know you two be tight like dat, I’m just playin’ witcha.

[Rinoa quickly strokes her hair and makes her best attempt at quickly dolling herself up. It isn’t much.]

Rinoa: You know, I’m still available. Why don’t you ask me?

[Zell fidgets.]

Squall: Nah, sorry, we tried dat, didn’t work. We cool, but we just ain’t meant to be tight like dat.

Rinoa: Fine. But don’t come begging me at the last minute. I won’t wait up.

Squall: Beg? Ha! Don’t go dat route! I can get my mack on with any girl up in this garden!

Rinoa: Are you sure?

Squall: You know! Go ahead dawgs, pick any chick here at garden, and I bet you I can get her to go with me.

Quistis: How much?

Squall: How ‘bout dis? If you can pick a chick that I can’t pick up for da dance, I’ll bump yo’ wack-ass boyband music out my ghetto blaster, and I’ll dress like that fool you be droolin’ over for a whole day.

Quistis: Like, no way. A week.

Zell: Yeah, a week!

[Fujin, Raijin, and Rinoa laugh.]

[But, suddenly, Rinoa begins to choke on the hot dog. Everyone notices, but nobody panics. Calmly, nonchalantly, Squall walks behind her and applies the Heimlich maneuver. She quickly coughs up the misguided chunk of food. It bounces in front of Quistis.]

Quistis: Ewww! That is like sooo totally grody!

[Rinoa’s face returns to a normal color.]

Rinoa: Thanks, Squall, you saved my life!

Squall: Ain’t No Thing! It‘s all good! [Turns To Quistis.] Okay, okay, but when I mack her, you gotsta...you gotsta...you gotsta go out with Seifer!

Quistis: EWWW! No! No! No! Bet is off!

Squall: [smirking] Naw Naw, you can’t be backin’ out now.

Quistis: Okay, you are sooo asking for it! I am like sooo going to nail you for this.

Rinoa: Let’s huddle up. If we make a united front...

[Quistis, Zell, Rinoa, Fujin, and Raijin all huddle up and discuss whom they should pick. They’re animated but unintelligible. Finally, they break huddle.]

Squall: [grinning ear to ear] Who ya got?

Fujin: [smiling wickedly] SELPHIE.

[Silence.]

Squall: Hey now, dat ain’t cool, don’t be trippin’.

Raijin: Well, you said any girl at garden.

Squall: Yeah yeah, but she don’t count, man. She’s crazy weird!

Quistis: No way, you aren’t going to get out of this, Squall. If you’re like going to make me ask Seifer out, then you have to ask that like total gloom queen out.

Squall: Ah man! No way!

Quistis: Totally way!

Squall: Whatever!

[Fade Out.]

SCENE 2: The Headmaster Ritual

[The Headmaster’s Office. Headmaster Sid and Head matron Edea sit behind their desks, Edea examining attendance records and Sid reviewing the latest standardized test scores. Each one is looking at mostly bad news, but each has some shining bright spots to enjoy.]

[Edea is dressed in a white and red dress with horizontal stripes, even though they always make you look fatter than you really are. Sid sports the usual red sweater vest over white dress shirt and tan slacks...and a rubber mask of Ronald Reagan – complete with conspicuous red devil horns protruding from the dyed-black hair -- resting atop his head should the need arise for him to pull it into position.]

Edea: [sarcastic] Well, isn’t this a surprise.

Sid: What?

Edea: Only one student had perfect attendance this past semester. Care to guess who it was?

Sid: Ellone?

Edea: You win the prize. That girl is here every single day. Never absent. It’s actually a little disturbing. She is always around, never not here.

Sid: She also had the highest score on the placement test, by far. Aced every section except history. 65% on history, which is surprisingly low, especially for somebody who aced every other section.

Edea: I guess she just can’t see the past, or just can’t relate to the memories of others.

Sid: I guess.

[A knock at the door.]

Sid: Come in.

[A very perturbed Irvine enters.]

Edea: [aside to Sid] Oh lord, what is it now?

[Sid suppresses the urge to laugh.]

Sid: Ah, hello Irvine, always a pleasure. [Edea snorts in disbelief, but nobody reacts to it.] What seems to be the trouble today?

Irvine: [very angry] It’s that deplorable thug Squall Leonheart. I was sitting in the cafeteria, quietly eating my meal in peace. I was disturbing nobody; not even the idle loiterers, who deserved it for hanging around instead of going to class, mind you. Suddenly Squall barges into the cafeteria with his large boom box playing at maximum volume, and he leaps up onto a table and attempted to incite a riot amongst the student body with his ‘rap music skills’ in the middle of lunch hour! Needless to say my appetite was ruined, and I certainly could not have been the only one.

[Edea rolls her eyes and starts looking out the window at nothing, pretending to see and be enthralled by something outside.]

Irvine: You absolutely must take some form of disciplinary action against him. He’s dangerous, he’s a detriment to school spirit, not to mention a force disruptive to the legitimate study activities of the student body. He’s loud, he’s lewd, he’s obnoxious, and he’s a bad influence on the underclassmen.

[Sid looks lazily at Irvine.]

Sid: [almost yawning] Is that all?

Irvine: Headmaster Kramer, I get the impression you are not taking this matter seriously. I assure you Headmaster, the gravity of this situation is immense and it truly does warrant major intervention on your part. Think of the underclassmen, Headmaster Kramer! Think of the underclassmen!

Sid: What do you want me to do about him?

Irvine: Well naturally he should be suspended for a week at the minimum, though I would seriously recommend outright expulsion, because this has been an ongoing problem all year, and obviously his boom box must be confiscated...

[But Headmaster Sid is no longer listening. He, like most people, is sick of listening to Irvine’s griping about every little thing under the sun. So even when he has a legitimate complaint, as he does today, it’s very hard not to just blow him off.]

Sid: If I call him into my office and discuss this issue with him, will you shut up and go back to class, Irvine?

Irvine: Well sir, that would be a step in the right direction, but I definitely think that a suspension--

Sid: Your opinion has been noted, Irvine. I’ll call him into my office and do something about this issue. Now would you please return to your studies?

Irvine: Are you certain you don’t need me to stay and give my testimony? He’s certain to give you his highly slanted and dare I say biased account of the proceedings, I think it only reasonable that I remain present to present a counterweight. [ASIDE TO THE AUDIENCE] And besides, I would so enjoy watching that jerk finally get his.

Sid: [sighs] I understand where you are coming from, but I have already heard your case, Irvine. That is enough. Please return to class.

Irvine: Okay, but sir, I really think I should--

[Sid suddenly pulls down the horned rubber Reagan mask.]

Sid: [In a guttural, demonic voice] I SAID LEAVE NOW, IMPUDENT PUDDLE OF SPEWTUM, BEFORE I SUBJECT YOU TO THE MIGHTY WRATH OF THE UNSPEAKABLE ONE!

[A very surprised Irvine takes the hint and beats a hasty retreat.]

Sid: SEE HOW THE COWARDLY WRETCHES SCURRY AWAY AT THE MERE THREAT OF MY WRATH!

Edea: [totally disinterested] Yeah, yeah, yeah, you’re Ronald Reagan, you’re the king of all things evil and unholy, yeah, I get it.

Sid: DO NOT DARE TO MOCK THE MIGHTY LORD OF ALL THAT IS CORRUPTED AND MAGGOTY ON THE INSIDE, LOWLY WENCH! I AM RONALD BEELZEBUB, RULER OF THE DARK AND MASTER OF EVIL!

Edea: Sid, please, take the stupid mask off. This routine of yours has gone way past tiresome. You sound like an even bigger prat than that Kinneas kid.

[Sid takes the mask off and begins speaking normally.]

Sid: Really?

Edea: Yes.

Sid: Oh, sorry.

[Fade Out.]

SCENE 3: …And…She Walked on Down the Hall!

[In the hallway on the second floor. Classes have just been dismissed. A crowd of students filters out of each of the rooms, laughing, griping about homework, carrying on, the usual student stuff. One of these students is Seifer, making his way down the hallway to the left, stuffing his books and binder into his backpack hastily, not really watching where he is going, because he doesn’t have time. He’s in a rush, what with his next class on the other side of garden and him only having six minutes to get there. Heading slowly in the other direction, looking as if she detests the necessity of having to actually walk anywhere, is Selphie, and sure enough she is dressed wholly in black from head to toe, complete with cape, and has pasted her face pale white with makeup. Except for her lips, which are covered with blood red lipstick.]

Seifer: Oh gosh, I’m running late...get in there...

Selphie: How can anyone smile and laugh and carry on in an empty, meaningless void of a world such as this one? It only serves to prove my theory that they are all but mindless automaton slaves to the corporate masters, conditioned and hypnotized into deriving pleasure from the meaningless insignificance of their own lives. They are completely oblivious to the true nature of their own environment...

[And on that note they bump into each other, sending Seifer’s books, Selphie’s notepad/poetry journal, and a slew of papers from each in the eight cardinal directions. They knock each other to the floor. Seifer’s cheeks flush as he scrambles to gather all the stray books and papers.]

Seifer: [very apologetic] Oh my goodness, I am really, really sorry! Here, please let me help you with this. I’m really sorry; I wasn’t watching where I was going.

[Selphie stares at him coldly. Seifer, smiling weakly, holds out her poetry journal, which she quickly and angrily snatches from his hand.]

Selphie: I have the second sight, and I can see through your transparent and pitiful machinations. I know your intentions, child. Let me assure you that I have no interest whatsoever.

Seifer: [still apologetic] No, honestly, I really wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m sorry. I know that sounds like a weak excuse, but it’s true. As geeky as I know it makes me out to be, it’s true.

Selphie: Oh! So you too are superficial in your assessment of others too, and hold my appearance against me because I refuse to conform to your vapid fashions!

Seifer: No, I’m not like that. I honestly had no hidden intentions, but since you bring it up, I do think that you’re…

Selphie: Silence! Your hollow game is revolting, and I refuse to let you toy with my complex emotions which you automatons could never understand, as I am the only sane mind and free spirit in this entire school.

[She storms off. Exit Selphie.]

Seifer: [disappointed] But I really do like you…

[He notices a piece of paper on the ground. He picks it up. He recognizes Selphie’s dramatic handwriting, and ominous-looking doodles in the margins. He reads the poems.]

Seifer: Wow. This is interesting. I’ve never read any poetry like this before. It’s so…dark…and gloomy. I wonder if she’s truly depressed…no, this is just art. Just because somebody writes a given line of lyric doesn’t mean that they necessarily agree with the sentiment expressed in it, or feel it themselves…oh no! What am I doing? Oh my gosh, I’m going to be late for class!

[Seifer shoves the poems into his backpack and runs off. Fade out.]

SCENE 4: The Phantom Nerd Menace

[Nida and Xu have just gotten out of class and are standing outside the door, talking…sort of. Neither one ever makes eye contact with the other.]

[Xu is wearing a very conservative and drab blouse and jeans ensemble that makes her look like a bad country singer, while Nida sports jeans the same dark blue color, and a “You will be assimilated” Borg T-shirt.]

Nida: So. Um. Can I, um, have your phone number…[quickly covering] so we can talk about the project?

Xu: Yeah. [Long pause] This…this project is really hard, huh?

Nida: Yeah. [He laughs, barely. She laughs, slightly.]

Xu: Oh! Sorry, I forgot! [Her cheeks run pink, embarrassed] My phone number. 438-5921.

Nida: Thanks. [He starts writing it down.]

Xu: Can I have yours? [She is immediately aware of the implication, and covers up with:] So we can talk about the project?

Nida: 183-1337.

[Xu writes it down.]

Nida: Okay. See you tomorrow.

Xu: Yeah.

[Awkward pause.]

Nida: Bye.

Xu: Bye.

[They walk off in opposite directions, having classes at opposite ends of the hall. Enter Squall, laughing.]

Squall: Ha! Those two is so crazy! Man, every fool up in here know how they feel ‘bout each other. They needs ta stop bein’ so shy and scared though. They perfect for each other. Like the same stuff and all dat. Both be into da science thang. Maybe after I gets my mack on with…Selphie…[shudders] I should help those two get da hookup wit each other.

Irvine: [off-stage] I’d mind my own business if I were you, Squall.

[Enter Irvine, smirking smugly.]

Irvine: You’re already skating on thin ice, mister.

Squall: Mister? Who da hail usin’ da word mister like dat? Where you learn to talk, fool, you trippin’!

Irvine: If I were you, I’d be more worried about what Headmaster Sid is going to do to you as a result of your little demonstration in the cafeteria today.

[As if on cue, Head Matron Edea’s very bored-sounding voice breaks over the PA system.]

Edea: Squall Leonheart, please report to Headmaster Sid’s office. Squall Leonheart, please report to Headmaster Sid’s office.

[Squall is stunned. Irvine smiles triumphantly.]

Irvine: Maybe next time you’ll think twice about disturbing the peace around here.

[It’s obvious to Squall that Irvine ratted him off.]

Squall: Man, what’s your problem? You hella trippin’. I’m just tryin’ to entertain the peeps, keep the mood mellow and all dat. [Walks off, muttering.] Crazy fool.

[Exit Squall.]

Irvine: Yes! Victory is at last mine. Now I can study in peace.

[Fade Out.]

SCENE 5: The Empire Strikes Back

[Back to the Headmaster’s Office. Sid and Edea, behind their respective desks as before. Sid’s mask is off, but still resting on his head.]

Sid: You know, this is the part of the job I really hate.

Edea: Disciplining the kids?

Sid: Yes. I know Squall is pretty rambunctious, but I want to encourage that. I don’t want to be some overbearing fascist administrator out crushing everybody’s spirit and trying to force-fit them into a standardized box, but at the same time, I appreciate that Squall’s antics probably do disrupt the learning process. And that Irvine kid is such a whining prat, I hate to take his side.

Edea: Yes. But he is right.

Sid: I know. What should I do?

Edea: Well, for starters, you could put that ridiculous rubber mask away once and for all.

[But he does no such thing. Enter Squall.]

Squall: Yo Sid, what up.

Sid: Please sit down, Squall.

Squall: That Irvine punk was all up in here and ratted me out, yo. Didn’t he?

Sid: Yes. And I’m afraid he has a point. Squall, please understand that I don’t like doing this. I don’t like taking his side, and I don’t like telling my students to tone it down, but...please, tone it down a little bit.

Squall: Aw man, don’t be hatin’ on my style like that!

Sid: I’m not trying to...um...hate...huh? I’m sorry but I don’t really understand your speech pattern. I never have. Which is not to say I don’t respect it or that I don’t respect you as an individual, but...um...

[He is floundering. Edea comes to the rescue.]

Edea: [deadpan] What da chief be tryin’ to lay down on ya is dat he got nuthin’ but love for where you be comin’ from, but we gots a garden academy to run up in this hizzouse, and the peeps gotsta be able to get their learnin’ phreak on, yo. Yo beats is phat and yo rhymes be slick. You got mad skills, yo! But ya gots to not bump it so loud during school hours, or else we gots ta do our thang, and suspend yo ass fo’ a week. At least. That Irvine be a fool, but he be in da right here, and we gots ta be fair and show love and give da props to all the peeps up in dis garden, like ‘em or not. Ya feel my flow?

Squall: I gotcha, girl.

Edea: Aight.

Sid: I’m also afraid we are going to have to confiscate your boom box for the rest of the term.

Squall: What? OH HAIL NAW! I KNOW YOU DID NOT JUST SAY DAT! My boom box be my lifeline, yo!

Sid: Technically, we’re not supposed to permit them at all. We’ve actually been dangerously lenient in letting you display it for so long. Administration isn’t too happy with us, and if they start hearing complaints, well…

Edea: [deadpan] ...It be our asses dat gonna get capped, yo.

Sid: And if we don’t do something, Irvine will go over our head, straight to the district.

Squall: Man, dis is cold! Dis hella wrong!

[He hands over the boom box, defeated.]

Sid: I’m sorry. That’s it. You may leave now.

[Squall leaves, dejected. Exit Squall.]

Sid: Poor kid. I really hate having to do that.

Edea: Yes. It’s so unfortunate. But we have to apply the rules to him just like everybody else.

Sid: Yeah. By the way, you were a real lifesaver just now. I never feel like I can communicate with that kid. You know, speak his lingo. How’d you learn to talk like that, anyway?

Edea: [matter-of-factly] You pick up little things like that when you’ve been possessed by a maniacal sorceress from the future bent on undoing all existence.

Sid: Really?

Edea: Yes. I also have a third degree black belt, can manipulate the very fabric of space-time, and speak fluent Hungarian.

Sid: Can you demonstrate?

Edea: Certainly.

[On that note, fade out (because unlike Edea, this author knows no Hungarian whatsoever).]

SCENE 6: She’s a Valley Girl, and There is no Cure

[Quistis and Rinoa, sitting on one of the picnic tables in the quad, after classes have let out for the day.]

Rinoa: Ow!

Quistis: What is it?

[Rinoa holds out her hand. There is a huge splinter stuck in the palm of her hand.]

Rinoa: I have a huge splinter stuck in my hand!

Quistis: Oh my gawd! Hold on, I think I have, like, some tweezers, here in my purse...it’s a Gucci, by the way, and yes, this is sooo totally real leather, thank you.

[Quistis fishes around in her purse and finds a pair of tweezers. She applies them to the massive splinter in Rinoa’s hand and pulls it out.]

Quistis: You, like, should put a band-aid or something on that.

Rinoa: Yeah.

Quistis: I have some special designer band-aids in here, too. They’re, like, totally see-through. It’s like it looks like they aren’t even there, so nobody knows you have an unsightly little blemish.

[Quistis produces one of the aforementioned band-aids, and passes it to Rinoa, who applies it to the pretty deep puncture from the splinter.]

Rinoa: Thanks, Quistis. You saved my life.

Quistis: [laughing] Oh, yeah, right, I am like sooo sure. You’re sooo overdramatic, Rin. Saved your life...oh, my, GAWD.

Rinoa: Well, I could’ve gotten a nasty infection.

Quistis: What-EVER.

Rinoa: Hey, did you hear the latest about Squall?

Quistis: No, what? [Enthusiastic] Did he strike out with Selphie?

Rinoa: No.

Quistis: [Fearful] She didn’t agree to go with him, did she?

Rinoa: No. I don’t think he’s even asked her yet.

[Quistis breathes a sigh of relief.]

Rinoa: I don’t think he was in the mood to this afternoon.

Quistis: Why, what happened?

Rinoa: The Power-Elite came down pretty hard on him today.

Quistis: Huh?

Rinoa: Headmaster Sid confiscated his boom box.

[Quistis gasps.]

Quistis: Oh! My! Gawd! That is sooo uncool! Why?

Rinoa: I hear that Irvine complained about the “concert” in the cafeteria, and, well, basically, Sid’s hands are tied. It’s a universal policy in gardens all over the world; no boom boxes during school hours. Sid could lose his job if someone complained to his superiors...and Irvine probably would. He’s such a class traitor. We’re never going to get anywhere with all these stooges in our midst.

Quistis: Oh, my, gawd, Irvine is such a geek! Like, what is his problem? He’s sooo got, like, a chip on his shoulder about everybody!

Rinoa: Well, I don’t think he has very many friends. Maybe that’s part of the reason. He doesn’t feel like he is part of the collective.

Quistis: Well, duh! Look at how he treats people! Like, no wonder he has no friends? Doesn’t he even, like, think about that at all?

Rinoa: Quistis?

Quistis: Yeah.

Rinoa: Don’t you think it was pretty strange that Zell bought a hot dog, when everybody knows he can’t stand them?

Quistis: Oh, I didn’t think about that at all! Yeah, he is like such a health food freak! That is sooo weird.

Rinoa: Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. And isn’t it also rather strange that he just happened to walk by our table after he bought that hot dog that he never intended to eat?

Quistis: Yeah. [She suddenly smiles, and becomes very animated.] Oooh, you know what? I think he likes you!

Rinoa: Really? No way.

Quistis: Totally way! Like, what other explanation is there? He hates the garden hot dogs. You’ve told him they’re like your favorite thing on the menu. And he just, like, happens to walk by the table where you and I always sit for lunch? Like, that everybody knows is our table? And he just gives the hot dog to you right away? Like, he was like, thinking about doing that ahead of time? Like, that was his plan all along?

Rinoa: But if that’s true, then why didn’t he just ask me to the dance?

Quistis: Dude! He is sooo shy around you! Haven’t you, like, noticed that? Remember after he gave you the hot dog, he started mumbling something?

Rinoa: Yeah, I couldn’t understand him. I wasn’t really listening though. What did he say? Honestly.

Quistis: He didn’t finish. Fujin and Raijin showed up and interrupted him.

Rinoa: Oh yeah, and then Zell said something about the card tournament.

Quistis: That is sooo like a cover up! He’s not entering the tournament. As If! Nobody in my group of friends would ever be caught dead at one of those things, and Zell is like sooo not an exception!

Rinoa: Maybe you’re right. Well, what should I do? Should I go with him?

Quistis: Yeah! He sooo wants to be with you. I bet he’d like, buy you all sorts of fancy gifts.

Rinoa: I think you’ve made enough bets for one day, Quistis.

[They both laugh.]

[Fade Out.]

Part 2