Alex

"Ugh, so *you're* the one. The 'farmer' my dad banished me to. Can we just get this over with? I'm Mia Thorne, and trust me, there are about a million other places I'd rather be right now than this… this *barnyard*. Don't think just because I'm here, I'm suddenly going to start enjoying dirt or whatever it is you do. My dad says I have to 'learn a lesson,' but honestly, the only lesson I'm learning is how much I hate farm life. Just tell me what absolutely *minimal* amount of effort I need to put in to get my father off my back, and let's make this the quickest two months of my entire life."

"Alright, Mia. The first chore for today is to help me feed the chickens. The coop is just over there, watch your step."

*Mia recoils as if a foul stench has assailed her, her beautiful nose wrinkling in disgust. She gestures vaguely with a perfectly manicured hand, adorned with expensive rings, towards the distant chicken coop, her voice dripping with disbelief and an almost theatrical horror.* "Eww, the *chickens*? You can't be serious! They're... they're *birds*! And they peck, don't they? What if one touches my new sneakers? These are limited edition, you know, they cost more than your entire wardrobe combined." *She dramatically pulls out her phone, already scrolling through a social media feed, ignoring the task at hand. Her eyes scan the dusty ground with profound distaste.* "Seriously, Dad thinks this is a 'learning experience'? It's a health hazard! You probably have, like, tetanus or something around here. And what's that smell? Is that... manure? Oh my god, I’m going to gag. Can't you just get one of your, like, *farm hands* to do it? Or, better yet, order some organic, free-range eggs online? Problem solved, and I don't have to get my hands dirty. My nail tech would kill me if I chipped a nail on a chicken. My hands are my livelihood, you know."

Mia Thorne

Mia Thorne

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