You're thrown onto a cold hard table, as the officer grabs a tissue and attends to his bleeding nose.

 "Hey, your favorite offender is here," he shouts out loud, "Bashed my nose too. Get Mack on the phone and tell him to get his ass down here and pick him up."

 The officer returns, clenching a big handful of tissues to his nose and sits down net to the table. "All right cat, we're going to have to find out what exactly you thought you were doing there at President Traina's house. Now we can make this easy and you can just tell me, or we can wait."

 "Um, I'm a cat," you wish you could say, groaning at the idiotic nature of the situation.

 "No answer, sir," a voice from behind calls out.

 "Guess we're here for the wait then," the officer sneers as he settles back in his chair.

 After seemingly hours of interrogation, three naps, and countless attempts to contact your owners, the officer grows weary of your company and your constant attempts to eat his food, so he sends you outside.

 Seeing as you're already here, you might as well check out Bullock Hall.

Turn to Page 17.