A menagerie of Alexes

You arrive at your Family Studies classroom to find the door blocked by a blue, transluscent kiddie pool half-filled with water. Half of it has been shoved through the threshold already, and a shaken-looking copy of Alex - a mermaid, this time - sits patiently in its visible end.

"I don't care if she needs water! You should have considered the requirements of the assignment!" bellows Mr. LaVerne, who partially emerges from the doorway in his efforts to shift the kiddie pool, "You will return next friday with a better solution, or not at all!"

The object of his scorn (Murray, one of the most obvious burnouts in the class) runs a hand through his tangle of dark hair before bending down to help. Together they succeed in pushing the oversized lawn toy far enough aside that you're able to get through, allowing you entry into an unrecognizably raucous and energetic version of your classroom.

The first thing you notice is that nobody is in their chairs. They're all standing around mingling or trying to coax their subjects out of some uninhabited corner of the room, far too busy to spare a thought for new arrivals like you and Callum.

This gives you an excellent chance to scope out the many permutations of Alex crowding the bright, desk-lined space: you manage to spot a shortstack, a catgirl and a few familiar celebrities before Mr. LaVerne storms back into the room and restores order with a harsh clearing of his throat.

Only when everyone has settled into their seats does he open his mouth to speak:

"Today is the first day of subject interviews," he explains, looking around to the assemblage of traumatized TA-likes sitting at their masters' feet, "We'll proceed in alphabetical order. When I call your name, your subject will come to the front to be asked a series of questions..."

Your attention drifts. Out of habit you find yourself looking in Alex's direction only to be thunderstruck by what you see: long, tanned legs, painted nails and an abundant window of cleavage winking at you from the confines of her tight-fitting croptop. She looks nervous and uncomfortable as hell, but - much to your delight - the girl had clearly taken Mr. LaVerne's earlier criticism of her wardrobe to heart.

You're roused from your daydreams by Mr. LaVerne's voice ringing out again, this time to announce the first student on his list:

"Callum Amos."

Lithe, busty Allura rises from the floor without having to be told, the elf's pert bottom swaying as she makes her way up to the front of the room.