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Jenny Wakeman rewound the digital recorder in her head. She recalibrated the lenses in her eyes. She couldn’t have heard what she thought she'd heard. She couldn’t be seeing what she thought she was seeing.

But all data pointed to one undeniable conclusion — There was a third Crust Cousin.

Apparently unsatisfied with the level of attention directed her way, Brit clapped her hands. “Listen up, people! Your superiors are speaking. We are introducing a new, important personage —our distinguished cousin from down south.”

“Way down south!” chirped Tiff.

Brit raised her voice to be heard over those who had insisted on continuing their own conversations. “We stayed with her delightful family this summer, and now she will be joining us for the fall semester. So pay attention, you undeserving wretches!”

The third Crust Cousin glided forward, cradling an instrument that might have been a mandolin. Her delicate fingers caressed the strings. All hallway activity ceased as she hummed softly, sustaining one perfect note. 

Her voice was like a purring kitten nestled on a satin pillow floating atop a pool of golden honey. “Heartfelt greetings, my North American friends. At home I am called Epifania Alegria de Crosta. But my dear cousins Brittany and Tiffany have given to me the English moniker of Epiphany Crust.”

“A.k.a. Piff,” added Tiff.

Epiphany said, “I am certain that I will be most pleased to make your acquaintance.” She gave the slightest possible nod to Brit and Tiff, who took up positions on either side of “Piff” and, without ever touching so much as a fingertip to her person, guided the new Crust Cousin down the hall.

“Epiphany Crust,” said Brit. “May I introduce Vice Principal Razinski.”

Piff’s arm rose with the grace of a swan’s neck emerging from the surface of a pond. She offered her hand. “Charmed, I am sure.” 

Razinski was charmed, for sure. He blushed as he took Piff’s hand in both of his. For a moment Jenny thought he might kiss it. Instead he said, “So pleased to have you join us, Miss de Crosta. Tremorton High welcomes students from abroad. I’m sure you’ll make a wonderful addition to the student body.”

What the heck? Jenny had been abroad—she travelled the world on a daily basis to save it. And if she was gone during school hours, Razinski gave her detention, not compliments.

The three cousins moved further down the hallway and came upon the popular kids’ clique. Brit said, “These are our people, Epiphany. The crème de la crème. We have Don Prima, Pteresa, Jantrice. . .” She waved her hand impatiently at the rest. “Assorted others too numerous to name.”

Don stepped forward, cocking an eyebrow. “May I say—”

“No, you may not,” snapped Brit. “We’re on a tight schedule, Don. You can try your third rate moves on Piff at a later date.”

As they passed disappointed Don, Tiff whispered to Piff, “Your basic boy toy. Wind him up and watch him go.”

The Crusts approached a huddle of athletes and cheerleaders. The latter broke out into a spontaneous (if unoriginal) cheer. “Two, four, six, eight. Who do we appreciate? Piff! Piff! Piffany Crust!”

Brit swatted the pom poms out of the head cheerleader’s hands. “It’s ‘Epiphany.’ Not ‘Piffany.’ "

Tiff muttered, “Some people ain’t got no language skills.”

Next on the tour was the math club. One glance from Epiphany was enough to reduce the entire unit, boys and girls alike, to a quivering, perspiring mess. Jenny thought that if Piff had actually been introduced to them they might’ve spontaneously combusted. Brit snubbing them had probably been an act of mercy.

By this time, the rest of the Doomslayers had gathered around Jenny, many of them edging in front of her to get a better view of the proceedings. Looking confused, Brit and Tiff waded into the newly formed group, and started manhandling the members.

Brit said, “Tiff, you’ve got your punks in my goths.”

“Nu uh,” said Tiff. “You’ve got your goths in my punks.” 

Jeremy Pistol stepped forward. “Oi! Get your hands off me mates!” 

Melancholia Adams slinked into view beside him. “The goths and punks are dead, metaphorically speaking. Together we are the Doomslayers. Tell them, Jenny.”

The Doomslayers parted to reveal their unofficial leader, Jenny Wakeman, in all her newfound punk/goth glory. XJ9 girded herself for the Crust Cousins’ verbal assault.

Brit and Tiff said nothing, apparently dumbstruck by Jenny’s makeover. But Epiphany glided past her cousins, spreading her arms wide. “So this is the legendary Jennifer Wakeman, also known as XJ9!” She bowed slightly as she grasped both Jenny’s hands. For a moment Jenny thought Epiphany might kiss them. And then she did! “Oh, how I have waited for the moment of our meeting, Jennifer.”

The logic and probability circuits in Jenny’s positronic brain overheated as they tried to process what was happening. Was this new Crust Cousin actually being nice to Jenny?