Who needs respect anyway?

With how egotistical Dr. Powell is, I can't resist that second option. As much fun as it would be to see her get a little battered and bruised, the thought of everyone constantly insulting her and treating her like human garbage is just too perfect. And the idea that those insults will just turn her on more and more is the icing on the cake. I can't wait for the day where she's begging for that degrading treatment. With that in mind, I hit the red button, hoping that my assumption about making my choice is correct. Luckily, my theory is confirmed as new text pops up on the screen.

New Attribute Selected

SHAME ON ME

Perfect. And like I said, maybe this can even help with my meeting today. We'll just have to wait and see. For now though, it's time to get out of here.

Just as I'm about to leave, I hear some movement coming from the kitchen. I glance back in just in case, where I see Dr. Powell walking over to the corner of the room to throw a used sugar packet in the trash. She must have finished making her coffee while I wasn't looking. Not really that interesting, but another confirmation that I need to leave before she comes out. Just as I'm about to back away, I see Dr. Powell accidentally bump into the man in the kitchen with her on the way back to her coffee mug. Before she has a chance to do or say anything, the man quickly turns around with an irritated look on his face.

"Do you mind?!" He shouts at her.

"E-excuse me?" Dr. Powell is clearly caught off guard. In her defense, even I'm a bit surprised at that sudden reaction.

"What? Are you some kind of idiot now, too? Watch where you're going, fat ass!"

Wow. That was more intense than I was expected. Clearly that guy's day was already off to a bad start if that came out not even a minute after I got that attribute. It seems like Powell also thought so, as she ended up backing into the counter behind her. She has both on her hands on the counter, holding herself up as her knees buckle. Her face is bright red and her breaths are getting heavier with each passing second. She looks equal parts shocked, embarrassed, and aroused. She quickly turns around and stares down at her coffee while the man lets out a huff before going back to his business. At least I know the attribute works. But seriously, my reasons to get out of here just doubled if that guy really is that pissed off.

I slip out of the teacher office building and congratulate myself on making it through that whole fiasco undetected. I take a moment to do a few more breathing exercises, but after that, I can't help but be happy with how that went. Definitely worth the risk. And for once in my life, I'm actually excited to see what's going to happen in my next history class.

After a brief pat on the back, I remind myself that this thing isn't over yet. I still need to get through my meeting with Dean Sanders. Looking at the time, it's still a little early, but hey, getting there ahead of time would certainly make me look better. With that in mind, I start the trek over to the Office of the Dean of Students.

Thankfully, the North Ridge campus is very walkable, so it really isn't that difficult to move between any two places. The office I'm looking for is located in the Student Center, so I head inside there and make my way up a few floors before looking around. I walk past a few offices before spotting a name plate that reads "Helen Sander" and knocking on the door. It seems that I was correct that Dean Sanders is a woman. Even better.

"Take a seat. I'll be with you in just a moment," I hear a voice call from inside the room.

I listen to the voice and sit down in one of the many seats positioned in the hallway. I can't help but get a little more nervous with each minute that passes as I wait. Finally, after what feels like forever, I hear the voice call once more.

"You can come in now."

With one last deep breath, I stand up and walk over. With no real idea of who the woman on the other side of this door is, I turn the handle, pull it open, and step inside.

So this is Dean Helen Sanders. She definitely has the aura of a powerful woman capable of ending my academic career. That being said, I wouldn't have thought she would be so... attractive. I know, not the best time for that, but I mean, come on. Look at her. Sure, she is clearly on the mature side, maybe late 40s or early 50s, but she wears that maturity well. Long, flowing blonde hair, enticing blue eyes, a nice hourglass curve. Even the way she wears her glasses on the bridge of her nose is pretty sexy. I would probably be turned on right now if I wasn't slightly terrified of her.

While the confident, hands-on-hips pose she's currently striking is incredibly alluring, it also tells me that she's not a person to mess with. To me, she doesn't seem especially domineering or cruel like Dr. Powell, but she does seem like someone who has no problem getting things done when necessary. I imagine that's part of the reason she scheduled this meeting so quickly.

"You must be Mr. Anderson. Please take a seat," she says as she gestures to a chair in front of her.

As I walk toward the chair, she turns begins making her way around a large, intimidating desk that looks more expensive than any item in my entire house. With her back turned to me, I take the opportunity to slip out the Random Remote. I sit down in the chair she directed me to and place the remote on my leg. I even take the liberty of locking-on to the dean now, so that if at any point I feel like things are going downhill, I can use my ace-in-the-hole without delay. I keep my finger near the red button as I look up at Sanders, who has now sat down and is staring at me, likely trying to read my personality.

"In order to be fully transparent, I feel it is necessary to inform you that this interview will be recorded so that it can be referred back to at a later time. With that formality out of the way, I assume you know why you're here, Mr. Anderson," she suddenly says.

"Yes, Ma'am. I do." I try my best to be stoic, but I'm sure she can feel my anxiety. But anxiety doesn't prove guilt, even if I am technically guilty.

"Good. That means you are aware of the allegations that one of our staff members has made about you." I nod. "Now, before I get into any specifics about what I was told, I would like to hear the events as you remember them, without the bias of any other factors. Can you tell me exactly what you did and why?"

I can tell this woman is good at her job. Again, I don't detect any malice or cruelty, just a person determined to find the truth and take appropriate action once she does. I can also tell that there's no point to lie to her, since she'll almost certainly catch it. With that in mind, I should just keep it brief. I still feel like a bundle of nerves, but the longer I wait to answer, the worse it will look.

"I called my teacher a bitch because that's what she is."

Shit! I didn't mean to say that! Why did I do that?! I just admitted what I did out loud in front of the dean! And now there's a recording of it! I don't understand what prompted me to-

No...

No, no, no...

The attribute.

When it said "people" it meant all people. Including me. Being on edge must have made the effect stronger on me, just like that guy in the kitchen. If I would have known that, I might have been able to stop myself. Well, now my only hope is that the second part of the attribute about making Powell's humiliation seem normal is strong enough to cover my mistake. Which actually makes me wonder why I'm still aware of what's going on. Maybe since I know the attribute exists, I'm able to notice its effect anyway? What am I doing?! Now's not the time, Matt!

I look at the dean's face to try and get a read on if I'm in trouble or not. When I lock eyes with her, I notice they're wider than before and her mouth is open slightly. Up to this point, she's been very calm and collected, but it seems like she's a bit stunned now. Dammit! The attribute hasn't had enough time to start affecting everyone! Well, I guess I'm screwed now.

"Um... Mr. Anderson, I understand where you're coming from, but if you could refrain using such... intense language, that would be appreciated."

My ears perk up. Did I hear that right?

"You understand where I'm coming from?"

"I do. Ms. Powell can be somewhat... unpleasant to work with. However, we still must keep in mind the reputation of the university in matters like these. We expect students to address their professors with respect, even professors like Ms. Powell. With that in mind, there are a few more things related to this incident that we need to discuss."

Did... did she just say Ms. Powell? It doesn't matter if you're a failing college student or the president of the United States, no one ever calls that woman anything other that Dr. Powell. And that pause she took before settling on the word unpleasant... It is working. Even the dean is starting to think less of her. Not enough to fully accept me calling her a bitch at this point, but maybe enough for me to still get out of this with minimal issues. Although, I might need a bit more help if I want that to happen...

I think now is the time for that ace-in-the-hole.