<strong>Alan - Seven Steps to Success College, Art Studio B</strong><br/>'Oh crap." Alan thought. "Oh well, at least if anyone saw that shit, it's Brettford. He's so baked all the time, he'll probably buy whatever I tell him. At least, that's what I've heard about him anyway. Oh well, here goes nothing'<br/><br/>"Hey Mr. Brettford," he said, raising a hand up in greeting. He stood from his previous position of being crouched over examining the ruin.<br/><br/>"Everything is alright. I was just working on my new project in here. I just had a idea that hit me out of  nowhere, and I tried to run with it.   I've got sights, sounds, smells, but it's just not coming together. . . I think I might have to give up on this one. He frowned, and with feigned sadness, he drooped his head and scratched the back of his neck.<br/><br/>"Oh well. They can't all be good." He shrugged. "But I'd prefer if you didn't share this with anyone. Not only is it an embarrassing disaster, it's<em>my</em>embarrassing disaster." He glanced at his watch, which he realized he didn't have on at the time.<br/><br/>"Hey look at that, it's almost<em>dinner</em>time. Man, I've been in here far too much lately, and I could totally go for some Twinkies<sub>(tm)</sub>. "<br/>