fandomhighdorms | Third floor common room, Monday evening

Never leave decorating for a party to the mellow. There were some streamers tossed around and one of those fold-out crinkly hanging ball things dangling from a string that was duct taped to the ceiling. A stack of festive party hats tilted rather precariously on top of Jude's displaced stereo, which was playing something bouncy and probably from before he was born.

Food, however, was an excellent thing to leave to the mellow. Well, to the Jude anyway. A mismatched array of bowls held a mismatched yet delicious array of snacks and there were drinks of all kinds "liberated" from every common room that had anything in the fridge. Sadly, there were no milkshakes. Most of Jude's efforts had been put into the cake. The triple-layer (the base in chocolate, the middle slab in white, and the top in orange) cake decorated in as many clashing colours of icing as Jude could find. There was bright orange trim with purple and blue rosettes wherever he could fit them, and 'happy birthday, Rikku' in shaky cursive across the very top in hot pink. Sprinkles, marzipan, and gum drops were present in abundance. It was a cavity waiting to happen. And Jude was making sure no one touched it until all sixteen candles had been blown out.

Of course, until then, he was just going to sing "Sixteen Candles" to himself. A lot.

[[Rikku's impromptu birthday party is now open! OCD ~~coming~~ up, go and play!]]

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"Oh geez, there's another one? One is more than enough even from a distance, where I'm happy, thanks. But there's an existential question. Are you really a- you know if you're kinda pretending to be a- you know without even pretending to do that part of a- you know's job? Everything before that is circumstantial." Yeah, he was babbling.

"I kinda hope not?" Pam said, blushing. "It was a class exercise. If it's going on like, my records, I'm going to kill Jim." She blushed more. "I didn't sign up to be there, I swear. Because...wow. I got signed up as a joke."

"Oh, I didn't mean to suggest that you were really, just...nevermind." Lucas ate a chip and rolled his eyes at himself. "I was just trying to be funny. Guess it backfired. Someone signed you up for Sex Ed as a joke?" Sounded like something Ben would do.

"No, I know, I'm not good at -- anyway," Pam babbled, "yeah, he did, and I need to figure out a way to get him back. Because wow. Mr. Bluth has noooo idea what he's talking about, and he's offensive and annoying and he made me pretend to be a hooker even if technically we weren't hookers at all because he failed at the whole concept of prostitution within the context of the class."

"Are we talking getting Mr Bluth back or your friend who signed you up?"

"Either, though I was talking about Jim," she said. "But I'd be amenable to doing something to Mr. Bluth too."

"Well maybe I could help. You know, if you're interested."

"I'm interested," Pam said, and then blushed. "I mean...yeah. Help would be good."

"Okay," he grinned. "Well, I have experience with this kind of thing, so I guess it all depends on whether you want Mr Bluth's credit card details messed with or something a little more on the side of public humiliation."

"Public humiliation," she said immediately. "He probably has bad credit already."

"How about Wednesday? We could figure out what to do then."

She nodded. "Sounds perfect. I'll bring my evil plotting paraphernalia. Not that I have any, but now I kinda wish I did."

"Cool, very cool. Uh, where do you want to meet?" He shrugged and sucked in a breath. "I plot better when there's food involved."

"The Perk?" she suggested. "Coffee is always good for plotting, right? But if there's somewhere better for you that's okay."

"No, the Perk's great. I've never said no to caffeine in my life."

Third floor common room, Monday evening - PARTY TIME!

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