So .... it having gone very quiet in Mrs Doonuthin's room.... I peep in.
The computer seems to be merrily chatting along to itself. Everything looks as per usual.
Except - maybe for Mrs Doonuthin herself. (Though on second thoughts - I dunno.)
She's slumped over her desk. Snoring away. One hand curled around a glass of "red" and a tortilla chip clutched protectively in the other.