"We're very fierce," he said, leaning forward a little in mock confidentiality. "All fear us and our mysterious and arcane ways. Who knows what we brew, hidden away in the secret recesses of the greenhouses? It's said that we drink strange potions, paint ourselves in wild colors and dance around the grounds waving our machetes and clippers under the light of the full moon."
He sat back and grinned, tucking her information into his jeans pocket for safety. "If only it were that exciting. This is the most hullabaloo that we've had in years. Most people don't particularly care if we develop new strains of plants, and even then they only care if they're pretty ornamentals. But that's fine with me. I'm not much the hullabaloo or hubbub type. Unless you count environmental activism, and in that, I tend to be noisy and bothersome. How much of an opportunity do you have for wild times in the math department?"