Stacy Lockwood:
[reading her poem]
Face like a ghost, hair black as sin/the witch of Santa Mira scratches her chin/she cackles, she gloats, she summons her broom/and flies like a banshee right out of the room.
Monica:
[furiously]
I'm gonna KILL you, Stacy Lockwood!
Teacher:
Monica!
[to Stacy]
Teacher:
Stacy, I think you better apologize.
Stacy Lockwood:
I'm sorry, Mrs. Chadfield. It was just a poem. It wasn't about her.
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 08:08