Okay, she coulda just walked in, ditched the present and then done a runner. But presuming Bunbury would freak about the poo, moon calf dung really, Tammy presumed staying around and waiting for her, with her extra gift of SHOES! would help. And then maybe keep the professor happy.
Taking a seat holding her pink jar of shiny poo and then a box containing the pretty Marc Jacob's shoes
and then clutching at the paper which held her real suckish poem. REAL SUCKISH.
Quote:
Professor,
This poo,
is so not you,
and well . . It's something I had to do,
so to make it easier;
I got you a shoe -
box-
containing a pair of shoes.
P.S I suck at Poems, enjoy the shoes. Not so much the poo.
Tammy Wood.
And then she started to look around, feeling a bit like she should be running away. But the shoes, well anyone would want them right?