Cooky is sitting at her desk, her chin resting on the wood and a 3/4 empty bottle of scotch gripped loosely in her hand. She hiccups, glaring at the slammed closed door.
"Pssh... damn ninjas. Think they're so big with they're... ninja-ness... I get no fricken' respect around here, I swear to god..."
She pauses, hiccuping once again, before smirking slugishly.
"Hehe~ I wonder what would happen if I left? They'd miss me. Mufu. MUFUFUFU~!"
The evil laughter continues until Cooky passes out on her desk, snoring loudly and muttering darkly in her sleep.