Nickel.

Before I start anything, imagine this scene. It's like those English cottages with a fireplace at the corner of the room. There are like, hundreds of books on the shelves behind me and a cat is curled up on the mat by my feet. I'm sitting comfortably on a leather chair, too engrossed with my hard cover book that has like 4342 pages. And you slowly walk towards me.

Okay?

Oh my, hello there! I didn't know you were here, in my private space that should only be for me. Thank goodness you didn't enter my imagination while I was thinking about Mark Foster and the many things I plan to do when I meet him. It doesn't involve much fabric between us, if you would like to know. But of course, you're not here to find out about those nitty gritty details.

Welcome to my humble abode that is my imagination. As you can see, it is not spacious because it occupies only one person (me) most of the time and occasionally, another person (usually Mark Foster) but he rarely comes here. He's mostly in the other room. Trying to find his clothes.

*clears throat*

As I was saying, it's such a surprise to find you here. You are one of the few who managed to enter this part of my imagination and since you're here, let me give you a quick tour to the other parts or rooms, as I call them. What, you're not interested in looking at the other sections of my imagination? I can assure you that it will be a very interesting tour because this is a pretty cool place to be in. It's mostly active during the day but it's not that boring at night either. Oh, you're sure you won't want to look around? Well, okay then. I was just about to show you the room where I store happy memories.

So, what can I do for you? Care for some hot cocoa? It's getting cold outside, just like what the weatherman said. Oh, so you are here because you're bored? Well, let me help you to continue procrastinating from the things you are suppose to be attending to. We can start playing Monopoly if you like but...*looks around*...I can't seem to remember which shelf I left the Monopoly on. Meh. No Monopoly then. I could entertain you with the stories I have.

So, November is here. I'm not exactly worried about the serious condition I'm suffering from; that is the lack of time and knowledge in my brain to face an exam that is in just 15 days. It feels like any other assessment test and we all know how we shade all four options on our answer sheets just for kicks during assessment tests. Mark! Where are your clothes? Can't you see we have a visitor here? Go put on some clothes and come back here to have some hot cocoa and some marshmallows. Where was I again? Okay, so yeah. Not feeling any tension at all. I remember the time when I was already shitting bricks in my pants a month before PMR and three months before SPM. But now, not a single brick. I'm not sure if I should be happy that I'm not suffering from a serious case of constipation or be terrified as fuck that I'm still as chilled as a cool cat.

OH MY GOSH, MARK. WHY AM I SMELLING SMOKE? YOU ARE GOING TO BURN THE HOUSE DOWN. Excuse me while I save the other room from burning down. But you can stay here and enjoy the hot cocoa if you like. There are some marshmallows near the fireplace. Don't be shy and all that shit. Also, stay out of that room with the red door because that's where I store most of my horny stuff. So uhhhh, yeah.

MARK FOSTER Where are you! I'm coming!