Wolfwood looks down at the idiot beside him and leans back on the adjoining locker. He crosses his arms and stares across the hall, rather than directly at the moaning fool. He's something of a bad boy, a cool kid, the kind that doesn't look like he has any problems asking someone out.

"You have to be able to talk to someone, Braid Brain."

An obvious point. Even suggestive hand motions is communication. He sighs and rolls his eyes behind his sunglasses.

"What was your 'foolproof' plan?"