So, I went to Friend 3's house to help put together Sourcework and make raffle baskets for our Christmas concert.

A Group of Kids: *talking away*
New Friend and Me: *tossing a pillow back and forth*
Friend 3: *laying on the floor with New Friend's feet on his back since he messed his back up*
Me: We rendevou with Rochambeau-
Friend 3: OUI OUI, MON AMI!!
New Friend: What the heck?!
Friend 3: If our theaters do that or some school does that as their play, I will try out for any part!
Me: Oh really?
Friend 3: Yeah!
New Friend: What are you guys even talking about?
Friend 3: Hamilton. Its a Broadway musical.
Me: If you'd be willing to try out for any part, then sing any of Alexander's lines in My Shot.
Friend 3 (underlined words are not lyrics, but just added in thoughts): "Burr, check what we got. Mr. Lafayette hard rock like Lancelot. I think your pants look hot. Laurens, I like you a lot." #Lauriton. "Let's hatch a plot blacker than the kettle callin' the pot. What are the odds the gods would put us all in one spot. Poppin' a squat on conventional wisdom, like it or not. A bunch of revolutionary manumission abolitionists. Give me a position, show me where the ammunition is." I gotta breathe some time! "Oh, am I talkin' too loud? Sometimes I get over excited, shoot off at the mouth. I never had a group of friends before. I promise that I'll make y'all proud!"
Me: "Lets get this guy in front of a crowd!"
New Friend: Okay, I've heard of this musical, but now I want to listen to it!!
Friend 3: Do it!!
Me: It's an amazing musical!
Friend 3: *with a lot of emotion* "I remember death so much it feels more like a memory. Is this where it gets me, on my feet, several feet ahead of me? I see it coming, do I run or fire my gun or let it be? There is no beat, no melody. Burr, my first friend, my enemy. Maybe the last face I'll ever see. If I throw away my shot, is this how you'll remember me? What if this bullet is my legacy?"
Boy from Group: *with a lot of emotion* "Legacy. What is a Legacy? It's planting seeds in a garden you never get to see. I wrote some notes at the beginning of a song someone will sing for me. America, you great unfinished symphony, you sent for me! You let me make a difference! A place in which orphan immigrants can leave their fingerprints and rise up! I'm running out of time! I'm running, and my time's up! Wise up! Eyes up!"
Boy and Friend 3: "I catch a glimpse of the other side."
Friend 3: "Laurens is leading a soldiers' chorus on the other side!"
Boy: "My son is on the other side! He's with my mother on the other side!"
Friend 3: "Washington is watching from the other side!"
Friend 3 and Boy: "Teach me how to say goodbye. Rise up. Rise up. Rise up. Eliza!"
Boy: "My love, take your time."
Friend 3: "I'll see you on the side."
Friend 3 and Boy: *both holding back tears* "Raise a glass to freedom..."
Whole Room: *sobbing*
Friend 3 and Boy: *smiling and start crying*
Friend 3's mom: I'm not hearing Sourcework being done- *comes downstairs* *sees everyone crying* What happened here?!