Today, the students met once again in the mindfuck room, which Cheryl had (somehow) programmed to look like an expansive, luxurious mansion. Careful observers may have noticed that the portrait on the wall had at least one pretty familiar face, though she wasn't wearing her tiara now.

"Hi nerds, welcome to my house," Cheryl said, welcomingly. "Or, like, what my house in Manhattan looks like, anyway. House-mirage. Anyway, today we're gonna learn about how to be heiresses. I know it might look easy, but it's super-not. You have to dress well, you have to develop a persona, and you have to find a fellow rich person to support you in case your money ever runs out. Which mine won't, but still."

She gestured over to where there were racks and racks of moddable very elegant clothing. "Make yourselves look fabulous, like heiresses. And then your assignment this week is to develop an eccentric heiress persona. Are you some charitable dumbfuck? Are you like Paris Hilton and you're gonna need a purse-dog? Are you a stunning railroad tycooness who works as a secretary to keep her overstimulated brain from telling her to set her ocelot on her students?"

At that moment, there was a roar from elsewhere in the house. "Speaking of, he's here. My pet ocelot. Or else that was Pam. She wandered off, too." Pause, frown, and then, "I hope they don't run into each other. Or get lost in our Underground Railroad tunnels. Or run into each other in our Underground Railroad tunnels. Oh, wait, yes I do, that sounds awesome."