Mrs. Forelli sat behind her desk with a look on her face as if a student had just asked her for the lead role when they weren't even qualified to build a backdrop.

"Sure, Marty," she said facetiously. "Why don't you just take my credit card, my car, my daughter and while you're at it, help yourself to my job too!  I may have tenure, but I'd like to finish my last years here - not in prison."

Marty rose to his feet.  He had already asked, explained, begged, cajoled, guilted and blamed her for training him so well that he felt "compelled" to go down the path he had chosen.  He was done.  There were other colleges, and other drama groups to pilfer.  He thought about breaking in later, but he wouldn't do that to her.  He loved and respected her too much.  That's why he had layed the cards out on the table and told her all he knew.  He started for the door with his head down.

"Okay."  It came out as weakly and resignedly as a child who finally realizes that Mom truly means "No, you can't shoot your little brother in the head with a BB gun - even if he said it was fine by him."

"Wait a minute, Snoops."  Marty perked up when he heard his school moniker.  Everyone in the drama group called him Snoops since he played Snoopy in "You're a Good Man Charlie Brown."  His rendition of 'SupperTime' had always brought the house down.  It was definitely a term of endearment, and could mean that...

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Don't you 'yes ma'am' me!  I suppose if I were to leave a certain storage room unlocked tonight and tomorrow we found that a few things had been borrowed we could just hope that whomever took them would bring them back... safely....soon.... and in one piece?  She said that last bit with slightly watery eyes.  She was a consumate actor, but he knew it was genuine.  Still he couldn't resist making light.

"What was that other part you said about a credit card?"