[[BoxJam at a PC. The screen reads Diaryland. Ms. BoxJam walks up]]
BoxJam typing: Man what a day. Sixteen tons of trash to haul out to the curb, and what do I get? Another day older and deeper in debt. Maybe someday I'll buy us a house where there's a trash *chute*, and...I think I hea[obscured]ure gotta
Ms. BoxJam: Whacha doin'?
[[BoxJam's hand is pressing on the keyboard]]
Ms. BoxJam: Why are you pressing
BoxJam: Look, if it's all the same to you...
Ms. BoxJam: Ha ha!
[[BoxJam is alone]]
BoxJam: If she'd only had an older sibling, all her 'ha ha' sensibilities would've been used up by now...