Today was the day that Heather Walker punched someone.

***

Heather had just finished an Arithmetic I class, held in one of the classrooms on the third floor of the School of Finance. It was a general education class that she, as a political science major, had been required to take. And thankfully, class had just ended. Though she was decent in mathematics, it bored her out of her wits. She was more the subjective type than the objective type, she would later admit to herself. In the meantime, she gathered her things and made her way down the ramps and toward the exit on the first floor, intent on proceeding toward the Slack for lunch.

Right at the door, she was stopped by another student: a man one foot taller than her, around the same age, who had jet black hair gel-styled for a business vibe. He also had a significantly large nose, wore business glasses, and, most aggravatingly, wore a shirt that read: "STAMP Out The Grime!"

"Not interested," said Heather nonchalantly, annoyed, as she went to go around him and out the door.

The man stuck out an arm across the doorway, however, blocking her way again. "Just a minute now. I wanna talk to you."

She gave him a look, clearly affronted. "Fine. Go ahead for like two seconds. But just so you know, the answer is no."

"So the election-"

"The election is in six days, between two 'establishment figures' neither of whom is supposedly interested in the people. So you want me to 'consider' changing my mind and giving a thought to a certain Mr. Stamp?"

The man froze and said nothing.

"Took the words out of your mouth, didn't I, sir? Well, let me tell you something. Just because the whole establishment-figure thing might be true doesn't mean everything else is true. And that CERTAINLY doesn't mean that Stamp is the answer. Any questions?... Good. Now good day." With that, Heather spun around and made her way down the corridor toward another exit.

"Slow down, now," said the man, who followed her and walked up to face her again. "We didn't even get each other's names. My name is Gregory. And you are...?" He stuck out his hand.

"Miss Nunya," said Heather, lying sweetly, not returning the handshake. "As in Nunya Business. Good day, sire!"

"C'mon now," said the man, blocking her way again. He let out a sigh. "Okay. Fine. You don't have to give me your name. But tell me: what sources do you read on OCEA?"

"The ones that teach me to know better." Heather attempted to bypass him again, and again, he blocked her. "Please let me go to lunch."

"Don't worry. I will, but first, let me clarify something. I know the stereotype around my people and me. We are loud, and we say the uncomfortable truth. I know it's hard for you to realize, and I assume you've been brought up to read the Flagstaff?"

"What do you mean by a flagstaff?" Heather knew he was referring to the University newspaper, but whatever it took to get rid of this guy...

"So you're a freshman, not familiar with the Flagstaff?" continued Gregory, completely oblivious. "Well, let me tell you, I'm a pretty open-minded guy, insightful and observant. So I am what you would call a reliable source-"

"If you're 'an open-minded guy,' then your mind would be open to the fact that I've indicated, multiple times, that I am not interested. And your mind would also be open to respecting me when I'm telling you, FOR THE FOURTH TIME, to stop blocking my way!"

"I know you don't like me blocking your way. I know you don't agree with me...yet. But here's the deal: if you want me to let you go, take this flyer and promise me you'll have a read-through." Gregory had a stack of flyers in his hand, each one with "STAMP OUT THE GRIME" printed on it. As a joke, Gregory added, "Either that or pop me in the face..."

And so she punched him.

Heather may have been a short, petite woman, but the impact spun Gregory on his heel and knocked him down on the concrete floor; the flyers scattered everywhere around him. Meanwhile, passersby had mixed reactions. One woman shrieked; a few laughed; a few cussed; and a few cheered. Amidst the chaos, Heather picked up some of the "STAMP OUT THE GRIME" flyers and threw them at the downed man. He looked up at her with an expression like he thought she was going to murder him. "You said I could pop you in the face!" she said mockingly, throwing her hands up in the air.

Gregory, the man she punched, began sobbing. "MY MOTHER OWNS HALF THIS FUCKING UNIVERSITY!" he screamed, shaking his fist at her. "YOU WAIT TILL SHE HEARS ABOUT THIS!"

"I'm sure she'll nurse you and make you better, little boy," replied Heather. "As for me, you can fuck off!"

Heather Walker was halfway to the Slack when the Campus Watch arrested her.

***

It was through a phone call from the University Jail, located under the Administration Building, that Aledon and I learned what happened. We bailed Heather out, paying 1200 credits in the process. However, her academic standing is still subject to a review by the University Affairs next month.

We found the guy, the "Stamper," that confronted Heather. His name is Gregory Noser, and we all laughed at that because the man, indeed, has a big nose. On a more serious note, however, he posted a video of himself on OCEA shortly after the incident, with his big nose wrapped in a large bandage. During this video, he described the incident between himself and Heather in the lens of Heather "being an agent carrying out the oppressive tactics of the establishment," sobbing occasionally, and ending with a call to "fight back."

"This is going to garner a lot of sympathy," Maggie had said with concern after watching the video. "Right or wrong, this may tip the scales."

Furthermore, Gregory, as I've come to find out, was just one of many players for the dreaded "Agenda II," where Stampers have now been approaching as many students as possible between classes, stressing to them Stamp's points, and shoving "early ballots" into their hands. Freshmen have been especially targeted.

Heather went onto her OCEA profile and told her side of the story, despite objections from Aledon and me to save it for University Affairs. Her OCEA story received mixed reactions. And Monika Rhodes, of all people, had apparently sent her a direct message afterward, warning Heather to take down the story or risk expulsion from the University.

"I do admit that I admire Heather's passionate stance, though," remarked Meghan Wen after she learned what happened.

This sentiment was also supported by our father, with whom Aledon and I had a group phone conversation just now. Our dad reminded us that he had studied at Cabotton University in his day, and that everything with Stamp and his propaganda had never happened here before.

"He is obsessed and unstable," our father said. "Hopefully, enough people will realize that."

And that's what I've been hoping too. The Headmaster election is in six days.