A couple of days ago Sister Fiona - head of the N'toumi Group - walked into the N'toumi common room carrying two of th biggest bags of crisps I've seen in my life. At the look of my surprise she answers, "yeah, they're fantastic, aren't they?"
Me: Definitely. What are they for?
Sr. Fiona: People are gonna get sick. You girls need calories.
Me: Okay. Are you predicting an epidemic?
Sr. Fiona: It's sort of in the air, wouldn't you say?
Me: Sure thing. So the crisps are for common distribution?
Sr. Fiona: Yes. Dig in.
And we did. The N'toumi girls collectively put away 1200 g of crisps in under 22 hours. It didn't stop people from getting sick though. Right now, seven of us are ordered to bedrest, and the rest are becoming hypocondric. Yesterday I was once again overtaken by my hideous ovaries and spent the day in agony and a tramadol induced fog. Sr. Fiona came by at 11 and asked me with worry in her voice if I too had fallen victim for The Great Autumn Bug. Her sigh of relief at my negation was scary.
Me:You were right though. There are alot of sick girls.
Sr. Fiona: I know. And El Abiodh is running out of hot water bottles.
Me: You're still not feeding them my Baileys. ( I got a bottle of Bailey's from my adults last week. Yay!)
Sr. Fiona: Drat. You sure?
Me: Positive. And the crisps didn't work either.
Sr. Fiona: I know. I'm really bummed about that.
Me: Did you consider handing out clothing?
Sr. Fiona: Sorry?
Me: You know, scarves, gloves, that sort of thing? People are barely dressed, and the InterConties aren't used to this kind of weather.
Sr. Fiona: Huh. Hadn't tought about that.
I'm pretty certain that the crisps were part of her plan to make us fat and unattractive to the permanent boys so we won't lead them on dark paths of lust and hormones. Then again, not being able to breathe through your nose sure puts a damper on the mood as well. It's all part of Sister Fiona's Great Plan (Trademark).