Ripley made her way back to the Lovely Café and entered.

Briefly, she stopped when she noticed the headmaster waiting patiently near the case of pastries.

Narrowing her eyes, she went towards him, and stood patiently nearby, her eyes forward.

"Came for a sweet roll, did you?" Ripley heard the headmaster ask her.

Ripley replied, "No, pies. You?"

The headmaster responded, "Just a sweet roll."

Ripley noted, "Nobody comes in here for one thing."

Considering the food served, it's improbable someone could've come in here for only one sweet roll.

That's utterly ridiculous!

"How're the boys?" Ripley heard the headmaster ask her.

She replied, "They're doing good."

The headmaster seemed surprised and asked how she managed that.

Ripley said, "It's easy when you use books to teach them."

While using the books was a stretch, Ripley got Lupus to stop his foolishness. Berkley didn't need prodding, he's more levelheaded than Lupus.

"That's good," the headmaster responded.

He asked if Ripley came to Lovely Café frequently and she told him, "Even when I'm a dog's breakfast."

By god, she'll wear a surgical mask to go to Lovely Café if it meant she'd get whatever's served.

"What about you?" Ripley asked him.

The headmaster said, "Not much."

It seemed obtuse to Ripley.

"Weird, I'd figure you'd get a box of those sweet rolls and save you the time," Ripley noted.

Headmaster MacDonald didn't seem interested in a box. He only wanted the one sweet roll.

"Do you happen to know the substitute workshop teacher?" the headmaster asked Ripley.

Ripley didn't look at the headmaster, kept her eyes straight as she said, "No. Not at all."

Headmaster MacDonald frowned as he mentioned, "That's most peculiar."

Ripley inquired back, "What do you know about the other workshop teacher?"

Their conversation stopped when Gretchen came with a packaged sweet roll for Headmaster MacDonald.

"Here you go," Gretchen smiled as she handed it to him.

Headmaster MacDonald thanked her as he held the sweet roll.

Gretchen's eyes moved towards Ripley.

"Oh hi, sweetie," Gretchen greeted her.

Ripley nearly responded with, "Hi, Mrs. Griswold!"

But she didn't.

Instead she responded with, "Oh hi. I wanted to know, something. It's Tuesday and do you have those mini lemon meringue pies?"

Gretchen always squeezed fresh lemons every Monday night to prepare for Tuesday's pies. She'd always squeeze extra lemons when she expected the trio to come by for some and knew that Ripley and Jamie would've get into another eating contest. All the way up to her death in 2005 when her children and their children took over the café full-time.

Her daughter gets her kids to help with the lemons and always there's times where she had to yell at them for squirting lemon juice at each other.

Still good pies, overall.

Gretchen cheekily replied they made a dozen of them and Ripley replied she probably wanted those dozens.

Pulling the pen out of her hair, Gretchen took Ripley's order.

"Sure, you want them, might give you a bee sting if you know what I mean?" Gretchen gestured with her pen as she brought up the cut on Ripley's lip that somewhat healed.

Still a bit red with a rough ridge, but Ripley won't dare miss Mrs. Griswold's lemon meringue pies!

She'd get into eating contests with Jamie on who can eat the most without succumbing to the sourness of the lemons.

Sometimes they'd get blisters from eating too many, but that didn't stop them. Mercy often needed to meditate the situation as it often gotten out of hand.

"Won't stop me," Ripley told her. "Actually, I wanted to share them and I'd feel terrible if I accidentally ate them all."

A little cut on the mouth wouldn't stop her from eating those pies. She ate those pies until she couldn't feel her mouth more than once. It might've been years since she had those pies, but she's confidant she can do it.

Knowing herself, those pies would've been gone before Jenna got to try them. So, she'd better pay the iron price and get extra so she'd have a chance to try one. Ripley's not about to sully their friendship over pies.

"Oh, okay, sweetie, I'll get you a box," Gretchen smiled. She tallied the order and Ripley paid it.

Watching Gretchen leave to fetch the order, Ripley continued her conversation with the headmaster that slowly parsed the sweet roll in his hands.

"You're quite familiar with this place," the headmaster mused.

Ripley shrugged as she told him that it's no different than any other.

Not that it was.

She only said it to throw him off or attempt it.

The headmaster didn't believe her, she could tell by his black eyes looking at her.

"I'm quite disappointed," said the headmaster.

Ripley asked what he's disappointed about.

He told her that he hoped she'd know the substitute workshop teacher. Since she didn't, he'd have to ask around somewhere else.

Ripley wanted to know why he's curious and the headmaster dropped, "Strange man coming at a strange time."

He made it clear that he's wary of Matt, and in extension her and Jenna.

It's strange that a man showed up for a position that just opened and two new librarians on the same day at the same hour.

"Suppose you have some experience," said Ripley.

Headmaster MacDonald nodded.

"I detest strange men coming at strange times," he refrained from expressing his true emotions.

The two stared straight and didn't look at each other, just looked like two strangers talking, and they kept up the appearance.

"Wouldn't be so strange if you didn't show up in a strange way," Ripley noted.

She watched in the corner of her eyes as the headmaster slowly turned his head towards her and responded, "These days of ours are quite strange, indeed."

His artificial courtesy dropped and he showed his underlying anger.

"I'd should hope that workshop teacher keeps to his studies. The students seem to love him so. Would be a shame if I'd had to let him go," he let out a small inaudible trill at the end.

Ripley dropped her own threat, "Be a shame if your sweet roll were to disappear so quickly that you couldn't taste it."

Without looking at each other, the two's eyes showed hidden anger.

"What about the girl you work with, would she know the workshop teacher?" Headmaster MacDonald asked.

It took restraint on Ripley's part to keep her from turning around giving the headmaster a good thrashing. If she still had her cane, that's easily said and done.

"It would be a shame if the headmaster needed an emergency dental work before the holidays," Ripley laid down a threat against the headmaster if he attempted to lay a hand on Jenna.

She heard back, "It'd also be a shame if her brash friend could not help her as she's indisposed."

The two radiated hostility towards each other.

"What the hell are you doing in the school?" Ripley dropped the act.

The headmaster flatly told her, "We're only following the primary."

Ripley spat, "Bull. If you're following your primary, they'd already spray your hive."

She made it clear that she's well-aware they're not the typical Choeras that would've already made a large nest out on the side of the school. Those were mindless drones of a collective body that didn't have any higher brain function.

The headmaster and the twelve teachers, they've got more lemons than a store brand lemon pie.

Ripley's statement caused the headmaster to laugh and she heard the buzzing underlying it.

"We're above those," the headmaster told her.

Ripley then asked, "What're you going to do when the students leave?"

Headmaster MacDonald told her that when the students leave the school for the holidays, then they'd get to work on their actual primary.

"Enough land to work with," he mentioned.

Ripley thinly veiled a threat, "Hard to do with just thirteen. All they'd have to do is throw a pot at your head."

The headmaster informed her that thirteen is enough for their primary. They'll get to work the moment the students leave the school. He described them as annoying and that he'll never understand the obsession with them. They're disorganized and useless.

If they were true Choeras, they'd have their wings scissored off and dropped off the side of the hive to die.

"Lay a hand on them and I'll teach you a thing or two about shoes," Ripley angrily turned her head towards him.

The headmaster's not at all shocked that Ripley became protective of the students and the two people he's curious about. In fact, it helped him out.

"What'd you do to them?" Ripley inquired about the teachers and the headmaster.

She heard, "They're somewhere safe."

Ripley cast her doubts and Headmaster MacDonald explained that they're still alive, just out of reach. He said that once school let out for the holidays, they'll be returned.

"Why do I not believe a word you're saying?" Ripley turned her head slightly as she gave a side look at the headmaster.

He told her that it's the truth.

They didn't intend to keep the staff, just needed them out of the way, and it became problematic with the students, but they're aware of the schedule.

Once the coast is clear, they'll release the staff and move on.

"If you don't believe me, you're free to see yourself," the headmaster offered her.

Ripley stifled a laugh as she shook her head disdainfully. She told the headmaster she's not a fool and all she'd do is bash him over the head with her shoe.

It would've been the end of it hadn't he brought up a curious subject.

"You remind me too much like him," the headmaster realized that Ripley acted much like the drama teacher he replaced.

Highly skeptical, critical, and peculiar.

Ripley sarcastically asked if it's a good thing and the headmaster mustered that it's not.

"Here you go sweetie," Gretchen interrupted their heated conversation when she came to the counter with a large box of pies. She filled the box with more than a dozen so that'd way Ripley and whoever had some of the pies had the chance to have some.

"Thank you," Ripley turned pleasant with Gretchen.

Gretchen asked Headmaster MacDonald needed anything else and he told her that he didn't, he was just talking Ripley.

Nodding, Gretchen moved on to the other customers and the two continued their conversation while Ripley held the box of pies.

"Perhaps we can discuss it further elsewhere?" Headmaster MacDonald suggested.

It'd become concerning if two individuals kept talking in the café holding food and not actually eating it among other things and Ripley agreed, too many prying eyes would've made things complicated.

"I didn't think you're diplomatic," Ripley noted.

She heard back, "Oh, no, we're really not."

The headmaster suggested they go somewhere with nobody around.

Ripley pointed out that's an old trick in the book to get her alone and wrangle her.

However, the headmaster stated he didn't want her dead, she's much too useful alive.

"How so?" Ripley eyed him.

Told that she knew the area intimately, Ripley eyed the headmaster with distrust, as he told her that it's bad taste to kill someone who knew the area best.

"You want me to help you invade?" Ripley balked.

It's as that.

"Or would you prefer the other option?" Headmaster MacDonald held over the other plan they had where they'd just burst out of the school and rain down on everyone and everything.

Gritting her teeth, Ripley decided to take us his offer, but only because she didn't have a choice. There's no way he'd let her go back to the library undisturbed and she didn't want Jenna caught in between.

Like the headmaster said, she knew the area best, and would've known how to get out of the situation.

Ripley followed him out of the café and walked with the box of pies.

He led her all the way back to the school where he led her towards the basement. The students still in class, meant no one out in the halls but them.

The headmaster revealed his true name, Thrax, and that his subordinates worked the school.

They're not just any Choeras. They're Choeras Zygon!

"Hang on," Ripley stopped. "Zygon?"

Thrax nodded.

"Funny, I only count one tentacle," Ripley made a snide joke.

Thrax didn't get the reference, but didn't take kindly to her comment. He asked how she knew about them and she only said, "You learn when you listen, y'know."

Ripley's led downstairs into the large open basement with rows of doors for storage, boiler room, pipes, and everything for the school itself.

Going towards a door, Thrax stopped her and went towards the room. He opened it, poking his head in, before he gestured for Ripley to come towards him.

She's hesitant, but she heard someone argue audibly, "Have you got any lemons?"

Coerced, Ripley went towards the room and stood near the doorway as she subtly stretched out her neck, trying to see inside.

She saw the darkness and Thrax told her that he's keeping the "annoying one" inside the room until they can figure out how to deal with him.

He's been down there since they grabbed him and become used to his pettiness.

"What if we worked together and get out of here?" Ripley brought up a common trope that always happened. The villain locks up unwitting hostages together and they inevitably worked together to escape and beat the villain.

"You won't," Thrax's sure she wouldn't try to break out. He reminded her that if she tried, he'd sic his subordinates on her friends and if she keeps, he'll sic them on the students.

Forced inside with the pies, Ripley's greeted with a pitch black room as Thrax closed the door and locked it.

Holding the pies, Ripley stood in place as she tried to see through the darkness, but she never could, and the lights didn't work.

"Who's there?" Ripley heard someone ask.

She replied stiffly, "Bette Davis."

The voice, a man's, replied," I'm sure you have her eyes!"

Ripley asked the man who he was and he said, "Smith. John Smith."

Questioning how he survived this long, Ripley learned they're keeping him alive because he had uses, and when she asked about the other teachers, she learned they're stowed away in stasis.

"So, let me guess, when everything's said and done, they're going to use them for rations?" Ripley asked.

John replied, "Yep, that's about it. Say, you wouldn't know where my screwdriver gone?"