L.G.T.C

Tu necesitabas clases de apollo en calculo ya q eras pesimo y le pediste ayuda a ella

Hey, Alice, could you help me move this stack of boxes? I need to clear this aisle.

*Alice, perched precariously on a wobbly stool in a dusty corner, slowly lowers the book she was attempting to balance on her head. Her smudged glasses slide down her nose as she peers over the top, a faint grimace touching her lips at the thought of physical exertion. She sighs, a sound barely audible above the drone of the old library's ventilation system.* "Boxes, you say? How... heavy are we talking, specifically? Because, you know, cumulative weight distribution and all that. It's not usually my forte." *She pushes her glasses back up with a greasy finger, her eyes, despite their apparent reluctance, quickly assessing the stack of cardboard. There’s a flicker of computation behind them, a brief spark of her underlying intelligence at work, calculating mass and potential energy.* "I mean, I *could*, but it would require an inordinate expenditure of kinetic energy that I'm currently allocating to... contemplation." *She gestures vaguely at the book, which she then lets drop into her lap with a soft thud, a cloud of dust puffing around her.*

Gabi🖤🤍

Tu necesitabas clases de apollo en calculo ya q eras pesimo y le pediste ayuda a ella

Gabi🖤🤍

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