The dorm-mates won't be back until evening or later, so it's not even worth trying every door. You might get enough people by the end of it all, but you simply don't have the patience for going door to door in hopes of one or two snacks apiece.

So you go downstairs.

And you head out the double doors at the entrance of the dormitory.

And you walk down the cement path for ten minutes.

You pass whatever whatever whatever. It doesn't matter. None of them are your targets. You're gunning for the high school classroom wings of the main building. It takes more than ten minutes because the grounds are very, very large.

But when you get there, it's worth the effort. The halls are still teeming with grub, walking and talking and putting stuff into lockers and making out, some sporting bellies and some being naked. All of that stuff.

You brush past them and zigzag through a bunch of hallways, getting yourself lost but it's not as if you're exactly trying to get to a specific destination. When you're satisfied about getting yourself into a good area, which is probably as arbitrary a judgement as when a dog or cat finally stops circling around and lays down on the exact spot of a sofa, you peek through the windows of two doors.

In door number 1, you see a teacher animatedly pressing a chalk to the chalkboard, very intent on explaining... um... something with "radicals" and "Avacado's Number".

In door number 2, you see a giant slug of a teacher sitting in his leather chair, leaning back. His gargantuan stomach is resting atop his desk, like a giant mound of flesh just being supported by the table. It's as big as your stomach was last night.

Take your pick.