Well, look, this may be a pop quiz, but it’s not a difficult one.

I just figured, since she’s posing all mysteriously — like she wants you to meet her under the 101 overpass and whisper, “Who do you like in the NBA finals?” so that she can husk back, “In men’s basketball I always pick against the Scandinavian big men,” and then get down to business of discussing how you are going to break into the CIA and steal some weaponized anthrax for a killer party this weekend  — then we might as well play along and pretend we can’t possibly GUESS who this might be.

Sigh. Hi, Courtney. This is both an important application of boob tape, and an overly trusting application of boob tape. By which I mean, thank God she used it, but also, thank God I am not at the party so that five minutes from this point I did not see the boob tape quit its job on account of fatigue and displeasure with the grueling hours. Shame, because if this bodice had fit, as opposed to looking like Courtney shoplifted the dress from a nearby boutique called Just A-Cups, she might’ve been onto something.

Hang in there, brave little boob tape. Hang in there for the children.