Myka, resigned to her fate, had once said she wanted to learn more about Stahma’s culture.
Myka is intelligent but Myka can’t possibly know about the bath salts when no one has told her. Stahma, too, is quite brilliant but she can’t find a reason to make herself believe that Myka does not know about the bath salts.
And together they learn, the two of them alone in a Castibath, exactly why one should not dump an entire bowl of bath salts into the bath. Exactly why one should not allow a suddenly too-eager human to control the distribution of bath salts into the bath.
It’s a lesson that lasts long into the night, after the bath had been drained, after the too-bright white of a Castithan home has turned dark, and well into the daylight of the following morning when they, the two of them, alone in a Castibed, have most definitely knocked themselves out.
Apparently there’s a twitter account for Hollywood writers to submit some of the crazy requests TV execs give them back in their script notes. My Reality TV professor sent them to my class in an email. These are…