Honestly, your font is gigantic. That’s the same size my Grandma Ruth uses to read David Alan Grier’s Twitter feed. You really need a privacy screen. Would you then respect my privacy? No, but it would make a really nice challenge. Doug. Get your girl, bro. Can’t. Too busy overachieving for you slouches. Can we get to work or what? I don’t know why you’re throwing so much shade. I am 1000% Team Zuca. I wanna see you two kids win. And I wanna win in this Econ class. And we will. But next time, please do not win on our kitchen counter at the expense of my toaster that my baby got me for Kwanzaa. The one I got you for Kujichagulia? Mm-hmm. Not cool, B. Look. Maybe just send Zoey a smiley face emoji. It comes in light skin. Jazz. No disrespect, but you’re gonna have to fall all the way back. Alright? It’s starting to feel like your presence is crowding every single inch of my higher spirit. Oh. I am good. Zoey is good. We are all good. [Jazz] Okay. Can we please get to our project, so I can be good? Cause I’m not no track star. And I’m not no rich SoHo kid. I’m actually gonna need a career when I graduate from here. Alright. Let’s go. Let’s do it. You know what they say about three days? It’s a really long time to go with no communication after a backslide. So, call Zoey, bro.