‘THE NAME OF THE PLAY!’ Mary Kate shouted. ‘We’ll change the name of the play!’

‘Mary Kate!’ I cried.

But Father Vincent’s coughing had subsided. Mary Kate turned towards him anxiously.

‘We could just call it The Monologues.’ She looked over at me and made this c’mon, keep it rolling gesture to urge me to get on board. ‘Or something that gives credit to the author, and puts the focus on her! An Extract from Eve Ensler! That’s perfect!’

Father Vincent was quiet. Mary Kate had apparently silenced the Damning Sinners Cough of Disapproval. But she had torn up The Vagina Monologues beyond recognition. It wasn’t even The Vagina Monologues anymore! It was The NON-Vagina Monologues. I had no words. So I fixed her with my best hardcore-metal death stare.

At first, she looked back at me and gave a little shrug like, What could I do? I’m Teddy the Porcupine! But then she turned to Father Vincent and gasped in horror.

His face was purple, his hands clutched his throat, the rooster-veins in his neck straining as he tried to speak – or cough – or anything.

‘Oh my God!’ I shouted, jumping up so fast I knocked over my chair. ‘HE’S CHOKING!’

He was struggling to stand up now, leaning over his desk, still gripping his throat desperately. ‘Oh my God!’ I kept yelling, ‘Oh my God!’ and Mary Kate was yelling it, too, and there was no time to notice or care if the six crucifixes on the walls were flipping us off for taking the Lord’s name in vain.

I started to run around the desk to Father Vincent, but then I remembered his assistant, Brother John, was right outside the door and turned around and leaped over my chair to go get him, but my brain was screaming, There’s no time! There’s no time! I was running frantically over to the closed door, grabbing the door handle, but then turning back (There’s no time!), racking my frantic brain for what I’d learned in freshman health class. Choking, choking, what did you do when someone was choking? Pound them on the chest, right? No, pound them on the BACK! Or roll them on their side? No, that’s an overdose! All I could remember from freshman health was Scottie Frost tongue-kissing the CPR dummy, and that was absolutely no fucking help and super gross, too. Why don’t you EVER pay attention in class? I raged at myself inwardly. See how it bites you in the ass!

I sprinted to the door again and grabbed the handle – but, just then, I heard a hacking sound behind me. I turned to see little Mary Kate with her arms wrapped around Father Vincent and her fists in his stomach, and him spluttering all over his desk, and then – glistening like a wet, spitty diamond – the cough drop.