Пароль: queen

Пароль: casket

Rowan: Coach, Coach, she tripped me.

Coach: It was a clean strike, Rowan.

Bianca: Maybe if you whined less and practiced more, you wouldn’t suck.

Seriously, Coach, when am I gonna get some real competition? Anyone else want to challenge me?

Wednesday: I do.

Bianca: Oh, you must be the psychopath they let in.

Wednesday: You must be the self-appointed Queen Bee. Interesting thing about bees. Pull out their stingers, they drop dead.

Bianca: Rowan doesn’t need you to come to his defense. He’s not helpless, he’s lazy.

Wednesday: Are we doing this or not?

Coach: En garde. Point to Wednesday. The score is even.

Bianca: That first point was clearly beginner’s luck. Let’s finish this.

Wednesday: For the final point, I would like to invoke a military challenge. No masks. No tips. Winner draws first blood.

Coach: It’s your decision, Bianca.

Wednesday: Let’s see if you bleed in black and white. Your face finally got that splash of color it so desperately needed.

Rowan: You’re Wednesday, right? Rowan. I know how you feel.

Wednesday: I guarantee you don’t.

Rowan: My mother promised me I’d finally fit in somewhere. I never thought it was possible to be an outcast in a school full of outcasts. But it looks like you’re gonna give me a run for my money. Sorry about the nick.

Wednesday: No good deed goes unpunished.

Xavier: Welcome back. Just take it easy. Nurse said you don’t have a concussion, but you probably have a nasty bump, huh?

Wednesday: The last thing I remember I was walking outside feeling a mixture of rage, pity and self-disgust. I never felt that way before.

Xavier: Losing to Bianca has that effect on people, I think. 

Wednesday: Then I looked up and saw that gargoyle coming down and I thought, “At least I’ll have an imaginative death.” Then you tackled me out of the way. Why?

Xavier: Call it instinct.

Wednesday: So you were guided by latent chivalry, the tool of the patriarchy, to extract my undying gratitude?

Xavier: Mm-hmm. Most people just say thank you.

Wednesday: I didn’t want to be rescued.

Xavier: I shoulda just let that thing smash you to mush?

Wednesday: I would have rather saved myself.

Xavier: Good to see you haven’t changed. If makes you feel any better, let’s just say I returned the favor. Xavier Thorpe? You probably don’t remember me.

Last time we met, I was about two feet shorter, 40 pounds heavier.

Wednesday: What happened?

Xavier: Puberty, I guess.

Wednesday: What happened the last time we met?

Xavier: Oh. Uh. Yeah, it… it was my godmother’s funeral. She was friends with your grandmother, and they spent their twenties in Europe, swindling the rich and notorious. I don’t know, but we were ten, and we were bored, decided to play hide and seek. I had the inspired idea to hide in her casket.

I got stuck as it was headed to the crematorium.

Wednesday: I’d heard muffled screams. I just figured your godmother had cheated death and was trying to claw her way out.

Xavier: Either way, you hit the big red stop button and saved me from being flame-broiled. So… Now we’re even.