Professor Flip-Flops's office. He pages through a file of some sort and chuckles as Joey takes a seat across from him and looks generally stricken. I sure hope he's laughing at her grades. And can I just say that she's had more troublesome professors in barely over a year of college than I had in four? Thank you. "What?" Joey finally asks petulantly. "I can't believe that you said 'fudge,'" Prof. Flip-Flops chuckles. He's a real jackass. I adore him. Joey sputters that it "just came out." Prof. Flip-Flops snorts that "it's just so silly. Even Doris, [his] secretary, has a harder core version of [his] favorite curse word." Silly Prof. Flip-Flops! Joey would never say a naughty curse word. "Doris is clearly a tough broad," Joey simpers, in a sad attempt to reestablish her It. Flip-Flops -- and that is clearly too benign a nickname for him. I'll have to find a new one. Be patient -- notices that the next day is Ms. Potter's Natal Day. She whines that, yes, it is. "Big plans?" Flip-Flops asks. "No," she bitches. What? No parade through the heart of Boston in celebration of Joey Potter's birthday? No celebratory barge trip down the Charles River? How can this be? Surely, this is one of the first signs of an impending Apocalypse. Flip-Flops agrees that Joey doesn't have much to celebrate, seeing as her scholarship barely covers her tuition. But what about the wad of cash Dawson gave her? Was that just for her first -- oh, whatever. I totally don't even care. "Do you have a job? Are you looking for one?" Flip-Flops asks, telling her that they have an opening for a research assistant in the English department. "Are you interested?" he asks. "Sure, maybe," Joey offers weakly. Stupid Joey. Those jobs are practically impossible to get. Flip-Flops reiterates this, telling her that other students would murder each other for the gig. "Think about it," he says. She nods unenthusiastically. Paging through her files, Flip-Flops finds yet another problem: she's enrolled in his class. "It's a little advanced for a sophomore," he says. Joey smiles. "Obviously, you don't know me, Professor [Flip-Flops], because if you did, you'd know that my sophomore status is a total non-issue," she preens. Joey's arrogance: it's what's for dinner. Also, I've just noticed that her hair and her skin are the exact same orange color, one that never occurs in nature. I don't know what Katie Holmes did to the hair and make-up people, but it must have been on a par with killing their mothers and burning down their homes because Joey really doesn't look anywhere near as pretty as I think Katie Holmes actually is. Anyway, she tells Flip-Flops that she's already read most of the books on the reading list. "How about Last Exit to Brooklyn?" Flip-Flops asks. Whoops. Except that one. Flip-Flops cuts a deal: she reads it before the first class meeting and he'll try to forget that she's "just a lowly sophomore." Joey agrees cheerfully…then realizes that the class meets at 3 PM that very day. Flip-Flops raises a brow. "Yeah, what's your point?" he asks. Joey looks at her lap. "Nothing. Forget it," she says. Amateur. Last Exit to Brooklyn is barely 300 pages. It's clearly first thing in the morning (what with the alarm clock reference and because, in the next scene, people are eating breakfast), which gives Joey at least 5 hours to read the book. She can get at least half of it, and then read and skim enough of the rest to fake it. It's called "cramming," Princess. Look into it.