Sapphire put on her glasses, picked up a pen and scribbled a series of equations on the whiteboard.

“Hey, that's permanent marker, don't--” Morris said.

She wheeled around and jabbed him square in the chest. Enraged, he went to jab her back, but Gunhilda parried with a student's folder and an admonishing glare.

“Keep that blanket up, Morris,” said Gunhilda.

“Don't interrupt me when I'm working,” said Sapphire. “I'm not about to break my legs over a clerical error. There, Mr. D., do you think this would be the best angle and speed for me to hit the bush down there?”

“Not a clue, my dear,” said Mr. Dense. “Now, if you were a spherical cow--that would be another matter.”

“Don't be lazy,” she pouted. “You're as bad as my students. Come on now, sweetie, you can do it. Use that big old head of yours.”

Mr. Dense blushed. Something stirred behind the blanket; Morris got as far away from it as he humanly could while still shielding the students' eyes.

“Not THAT head,” said Morris.

“It's--it's perfectly fine,” stammered Mr. Dense. “Yes, those calculations appear to be correct. But wouldn't it be more efficient if you opened up... your legs...”

“No.” Sapphire slammed the pen back onto the desk, scattering a whirlwind of papers. “Okay, clear the way, everyone.”

Everybody held their breaths and leaned in. Morris snuck a glance at the clock. Only two minutes until college ended and the entire population realised just how stuck they were. Gunhilda tutted at the delay.

With a yelp, Sapphire sprinted at the window and, at the last possible moment sprang up, tucking her arms under her knees in a cannonball. She soared through the window with all the grace of someone who was always picked last in P.E. classes. Right as she passed the point of no return, where there was only empty air underneath her, she froze, her limbs splayed awkwardly like she was stuck on a flytrap. The class got more than an eyeful.

“No!” she screamed. “Morris, the blind! Draw the fucking blind, you incompetent little troll of a man, this is all your fault, studying your stupid humanities subjects and breaking the universe just because you can’t get your jollies off with Emma!”

Morris dropped the blanket and sped over to the blind, drawing it down with one pull like a guillotine.

“And she was doing so well,” said Gunhilda, catching the blanket in mid-air, not that it mattered because nobody was looking in the direction of Mr Dense's big head.

“Why would you make me do this, Hilda?” screamed Sapphire. “This is all your fault, you totalitarian, authoritarian, feckless director! Fuck you and everything you stand for, you unattractive wildebeest!”

“Morris,” said Gunhilda, her face completely stoic. “Would you kindly raise the blind?”

“No,” said Sapphire. “Anything but that.”

“Are you mad?” asked Morris.

“Raise it,” said Gunhilda. “Maybe I'll get the art department over to do a few sketches. I was going to model for a project, but seeing as I'm so unattractive--”

“Okay, you win,” said Sapphire, the outline of her body against the blind smoothing out as it rotated. “I'm sorry. Would you do me a favour, at least? Could you check over what I wrote on the board?”

“Oh my stars and garters,” said Mr. Dense. “Her final equals sign--the bridge between event A and event B--it's disappeared!”

Morris walked over to inspect it. “Suppose I just redraw it?”

Gunhilda snatched the permanent marker from him and dropped it. It hung in the air, unusable and detached from reality.

“Before you do that, she's going to have a little think about how she addresses her superiors. I will not accept such a rushed apology.”

Sapphire whimpered like a dog that's had a boot stamping on its face--forever.

Alfie Jr. burst into the classroom, shoving his way past the army of amorous adolescents. He was panting heavily.

“Sir, Violet's vanished!” he cried.

Morris clapped. “Good job, Alfie Jr. Consider your extra credit well earned.”

“No, I mean she went into the bathroom and she's... well, she's completely gone!”

Gunhilda attacked Morris with suspiciously furrowed eyebrows. “Do you always have your students report upon each other's bowel movements?”

“She's not having a poo. She's nowhere.” Alfie Jr. crossed his arms. “I mean, I got a girl to check! I didn't go in there myself!”

“That's one less thing to worry about, I suppose,” said Morris.

“What are you saying?” said Sapphire. “Don't you realise what this means?”

Mr. Dense harrumphed. “If she's not in college anymore, she's obviously found a way out.”

Morris sighed. “Guess you have a point.”

“You're not going in there without another member of staff.” Gunhilda gripped his shoulder in a vice. Upon seeing his dumbfounded face, she added, “Me.”

“What about us?” said the spinning teachers.

“Alfie Jr., hold up the blanket in front of Mr. Dense, would you? Get a partner if he's too wide.” Gunhilda scanned the students to look for anyone vaguely female, but they were all so grubby it was hard to tell. “Are any of you children aware of the #metoo movement?”

Jake raised xex hand.

“Guard that blind with your life,” she ordered. “Or you will face the wrath of Twitter justice.”

“Wait,” said Sapphire, her voice wavering into hysterics. “The police are outside! They--they can see me! Aren't there any more blankets I can cover myself up with? They're--they're getting out their phones!”

“I'll save you, miss,” said Fortnite, stripping down to his undies. “Do it for the vine!” He dabbed out the window on the other side of the classroom, suspended in a state of eternal dankness.

“I'm under 18, you knuckledusters,” he shouted. “You're making child porn!”

“They're... starting to arrest each other,” commented Sapphire.

“Let's go,” said Gunhilda.

She marched into the girl's bathroom, with Morris creeping behind her, shielding his face, trying to walk as professionally as possible. The collective smell had not really been what he'd expected of femininity as a species, and he quickly switched to only shielding his nose.

“Sorry about the smell, Morris. I forgot about the board of parents banning male cleaning staff in the toilets. Unfortunately, we’ve not had any female staff apply since ten years ago.”

“I guess that explains why most of the kids go to spoons during their lunch break,” said Morris.

Gunhilda shot him a look over her shoulder. It made Morris feel like he was missing something in his assumption, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

They rounded the wall keeping the mirrors and sinks, but not the cubicles, out of view when the door was opened.

“Well that’s certainly unusual,” ventured Morris.

“What’s that?”

“Well, there’s no girls in here.”

“Idiot.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear my employer saying that.”

“I’m not your employer,” stated Gunhilda, “You know your paycheck comes from the local authority, don’t you?”

“But you can fire me. Anyway, let’s check the cubicles first.”

“I will be doing that. Don’t even think about opening one by yourself.”

Gunhilda swung all the cubicle doors open in quick succession. If things hadn’t been so serious she would have congratulated herself for the best one-person mexican wave she’d ever seen.

“They are empty. No sign of Violet,” she said.

“Uhum,” said Morris.

“What’s wrong, are you done gawking in there?”

Morris was standing inside the cubicle right at the end, looking down into the toilet bowl. When Gunhilda came to look at what he was seeing she was glad her family didn’t have a history of heart attacks.

“How,” Morris tried to say, “How did she… get… stuck down the u-bend?”

An ambulance wee-wooed in the distance as Gunhilda and Morris took a moment to stare at Violet’s face poking out of the toilet bowl. It looked like it was going to be a painful extraction but the girl was lucky in that she hadn’t gone underwater yet. Gunhilda knew that a drowning at the college would get it closed down, and she had not planned to retire for another ten years.

“We better not allow anybody in here, Morris. And don’t flush it!”

Morris was briefly sad that he hadn’t thought of trying that before Gunhilda said it. Violet would have been flushed out of his life forever. Probably.

But cause and effect weren’t in attendance this afternoon.

Gunhilda brought her muscly hands together. “Morris, go and get someone. Tell the ambulance we have an emergency in the bathroom.”

“Right.”

Morris sped out of the toilets and was greeted with the fresher air of the first floor corridor. He tried a door at the end of the hallway before realising that he could only go back to his now ruined classroom.

Some paramedics were having a shouting match outside the window as he strolled in.

“How can you make them wait this long?” one was screaming.

“But we only have one neckbrace! We have to wait for backup!”

“Are you seriously ignoring the state of our patients here?”

“Excuse me, uh, doctors,” Fornite was saying, “we’re fine. This is the coolest shizzle I’ve ever zhuzhed in my life.”

The paramedics looked up at him before continuing their argument.

Morris tried to lean over the window and get a good view of what was going on at ground level. A body of policemen were standing with their walkie-talkies out. An ambulance was parked into a bush.

“Hey!” he yelled. “What’s going on? Are any of you going to help?”

Nobody looked up at him. Morris tried again.

“There’s an emergency in the girls’ toilet! Please!”

Sapphire spun to face him. “You disgust me. How could you.” She attempted to spit at him but the saliva stayed where it had exited her mouth and revolved around her, shortly deciding to go into her orbit.

“I didn’t do anything,” said Morris. “I’m just saying. There’s an emergency.

“Everything’s an emergency, Mister whoever-you-are,” called up one of the paramedics, distracted from his exchange. “Calm down and we’ll sort this out.”

“That’s rich coming from you!” shouted the other paramedic.

“Don’t you guys have a ladder or something?” asked Sapphire as she began to colour something akin to emerald.

“We’re not fire-fighters,” sad the second paramedic. “Why would we carry a ladder for christ’s sake?”

“What are we meant to do then?” said Morris.

“Leave through the main doors? I don’t see your school’s problem with using the normal way of exiting a building.”

“I told you, we can’t use the doors!” shouted Sapphire before going what paint manufacturers might have called ‘forest-green’.

Morris coughed loudly. “Look here,” he said, “If you can’t believe us, and we can’t get out of the building, what are we meant to do?”

“Wait?”

“Are you serious?” hollered Sapphire. “Morris, get a goddamn pen and put the equals sign where it belongs!”

The philosophy teacher backed away from the window and pulled down a second blind just in time to not miss witnessing Sapphire throwing up. Her vomit promptly followed the laws of physics and splattered over the paving below.

Morris managed to find an actual whiteboard marker and hoped that its ability to be erased would make it harder for it to disappear. He drew two small lines in the area where Sapphire’s writing had disappeared.

“Won’t she just explode like that pen, though,” he mused as he took away the marker.

“FUCK!” he heard her scream.

The kids in the classroom gave each other meaningful looks.

“Well, I guess she didn’t explode then,” said Morris. He went back to the window to view the result of his actions.

Sapphire was lying face down in the remnants of her own vomit. The first paramedic had managed to win what seemed to have been a wrestling match and was running toward her with a neck brace.

Out of the corner of his eye, Morris saw Alfie Jr. creep out of the classroom. Before he could see where the little weirdo was going, Mr. Dense spoke up.

“Please, Morris. Don’t do something like that to me.”