You chuckle, given some space by the other students in the hall. A few sport bellies like yours, some with willing occupants, some...not.

"Well, I am going to see the nurse. I just arrived today after all."

The struggling in your stomach ceases for a moment, which feels nice. She was getting almost as bad as the secretary was. Casually you pull that handy-dandy digestive aid out of your pocket.

"Unfortunately, you're not going to be in any shape to talk to her."

There's a muffled shriek from inside, and your meal jerks painfully. You almost double over, feeling your esophagus fight to keep her down. Regretably, you drop the vial in the process...you need to take some, fast, if you're going to keep her from crawling right back up your gullet. This is what you need classes for. Maybe prowling the halls before registering and learning something wasn't such a good idea after all.