Power Pros Forum

Let's go with B. Change it up a little.

“Alright, let’s all go shower and change, and meet in the quad at 5:30 to go get some food at the pizza joint down the street,” Mitchell said. They all parted ways, and Roscoe went back to Ayers Hall. After showering and putting on a clean T-shirt and jeans, Roscoe went out to the quad, listening to Panda Bear’s recent album even as he sat down at a table across from his fellow southpaw moments later. Nolan soon joined them, and Zachary arrived just on time, dressed head to toe in American Eagle clothing. Zachary joked that because his last name was Eagle and he was born in the USA, that he was the “real American Eagle”.

Nolan offered to drive again, and the other boys had no qualms about being offered a free ride in a sports car like his — and they had no qualms about the fact that the pizza place, Johnny’s Pizza, was offering a two-for-one special on large pizzas. After they were seated, a young woman — “Keri” read her name tag — cheerfully bounced over to their table to take their order. “We’ll have four large pizzas, one meat lover’s, one Hawaiian, one veggie lover’s, and one pepperoni, and an order of breadsticks,” Zachary told the smiling waitress after she read off that day’s list of specials. “And for the rest of you boys?” Keri giggled as she jotted down the order. “What about to drink?” Mitchell and Zachary said they wanted Pepsis and Nolan ordered lemonade, leaving Roscoe to decide.

“And what do you want to drink, Shaggy?”

A. “I’ll just have a water, thanks.”
B. “I’ll have lemonade.”
C. “I’ll have a Pepsi as well.”
D. “What kind of beer do you have?”

B, por favor. Lemonade is god-tier drink, IMO.

“Lemonade is a god-tier drink, in my opinion. So I’ll have that.”

Keri bounced away, off to put in their order, and as soon as she was out of earshot, Zachary pounded his fists on the table. “I swear to God, Roscoe, if you don’t get her number…”

You best believe Roscoe got that number.

Back on campus, Roscoe found himself alone and bored in his dorm room, Matthew having run off somewhere to do something, probably.

“Hmm, what should I do?”

A. Call Keri
B. Go practice: Weights, Agility, Form, or Endurance
C. Just hang out and get some rest, listen to some music or something like that
D. Hit the whip so hard that the universe explodes

I'll go with B, and practice Endurance.

Roscoe decided to work on his endurance.

Stamina +1!
Abilities Screen has been unlocked!

Roscoe Heikkenen, SP

Vitality: 100/100
Mood: 10/10

Velocity: 85 mph
Control: 30
Stamina: 51

Fastball 1
Slider 1
Changeup 1
Knuckleball 2

After practicing, Roscoe went home and got a good night’s rest, waking up refreshed the next morning. Over the next several days, he didn’t do much of anything besides hanging out with Matthew, but suddenly, it was August 24th — the first day of classes.

Roscoe had picked up his schedule a few days prior, and his first class that Monday was a composition class — he was almost exclusively taking basic classes that year to get a lot of that out of the way so he could focus on degree-specific courses later — at 9:30. He ate breakfast in the cafeteria, then parted ways with Matthew and went into the English building.

Walking into the class, Roscoe saw that only four other kids were there, and the teacher told him that he could sit anywhere he liked.

“Where should I sit?”

A. Up at the front
B. Way in the back
C. Somewhere in the middle
D. The teacher’s desk

Let's have some fun. D.

The professor then walked out of the room, leaving the five students by themselves, if only for a minute. “Let’s have some fun,” Roscoe said to no one in particular as he rubbed his hands evilly and advanced towards the front of the room. He plopped down in the teacher’s comfortable chair and folded his arms.

“Ah, so we have a class clown. Excellent.”

A nerdy-looking kid in the front row pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Excuse me?” Roscoe asked. “I was saying, it’s great to have a class clown. That way you’ll make the rest of us look good. Especially me.”

Roscoe felt a sudden urge to beat the kid up, for no real reason, but he pounded his fists on the desk instead.

The kid with the glasses stood up. “I’m Myron. Learn the name, or you’ll learn how my fist feels in your face.” He walked over to Roscoe, pounding his fist in the palm of his left hand.

The professor walked in on a scene of chaos as Myron stood over the bloodied Roscoe, taunting him. “I don’t know who you are, or who you think you are,” Professor Leonard Mirtz addressed Myron, “but you need to get the hell out of my class.”

Myron turned around, gave Professor Mirtz the finger, and stormed out, throwing down another kid’s stack of books as he left.

Oh shit. Choosing D is bad, kids.