*And now,* thought Matthew, *to dispose of Brandon and restore Simon.*
He glanced at the watch as he walked along. Inscribed on the lid was a Latin motto.
[Corpus est Ludus de Mens]
Matthew's Latin was basic, to say the least, but he thought it meant something like "The Body is the Plaything of the Mind". He opened the watch, and found another message scratched on the interior:
[Fellito, Nietzsche]
"Hmm. That would be...Aha. Ahahaha. HAHAHAHA! Oh, Mark, I LIKE your Grandfather!"
=*=*=*=
Allison looked on longingly as Brandon moved set pieces. Brandon noticed, and felt conflicted. She was a geek, he should hate her, but something deep within felt deeply sad about that. Matthew waltzed in, followed by Mark. Brandon nearly dropped the load he was carrying, only for Mark to rush up and help him stabalize it. Mark smiled at him.
"Here, Captain, let me get that for you. I think Matthew wants to see you for something else."
"Um. Uh. Walter?"
"My younger brother? Oh, he's headed on home for the day. We had something of our Grandfather's that needed returning."
Brandon relaxed, visibly. Mark may be free, yes, but he didn't seem to remember what had happened, and the Watch was gone. Maybe that dork Matthew wasn't so bad. Brandon left Mark holding the load of props, and jogged over to Matthew, who was talking with Allison. If he'd still had Simon's intellect to go with his new social skills, he may have noticed the look of hopeful desperation in Allison's eyes, or the predatory one in Matthew's.
"Ah, Brandon. Step into my 'office', won't you?"
Brandon followed Allison and Matthew into the small storage room that Matthew used as headquarters when acting as Student Director of the Drama Club. Brandon walked into the door...
...And straight into a face full of Watch.
"And now, Brandon, go to sleep."