All It Takes Is A Nerf Gun To The Head

Act One:
We find our protagonist in Crusades class. Her pencil is scratching roughly at her paper as she attempts to think of something to say. There is a sharp snap when the end of her lead breaks off and flies towards her neighbor's head (our fair protagonist doesn't mind this at all; the neighbor is annoying anyway).
The assignment? Listen to each of the six speakers as they present their argument as to why the 2nd Crusade failed, and think of a question to ask one of the speakers about his/her views on the topic. Participation is mandatory.
The problem? Our protagonist, though reasonably intelligent, is no good at thinking on her feet. Without more time and less pressure, we fear she is lost forever to the cycle of 'um I don't know.'

As the clock ticks down to the hour of her demise, our protagonist's blue eyes begin to reflect the desperation within. The professor is looking at her expectantly; she is the last one to answer. Our protagonist opens her mouth to speak and....

Out flies the most horrendous, nonsensical, redundant question anyone has ever heard. The classroom is completely still for a few seconds, and then with a great torrent of wind all heads whip towards the professor, who looks baffled as well. Finally, one of the speakers decides to save at least a little of our protagonist's dignity. He answers her question as best he can without touching on the idiocy of it all (bless him).

The scene closes on an emptying classroom. When the last student has thrust his arms into his coat sleeves and tossed his backpack over his shoulder, we see her. There, in the corner. The one with the bowed head and the warm cheeks (though there is no visible blush). It is our protagonist.

Lights dim as she slowly exits the classroom.

Act 2:
It is late afternoon by the time our protagonist arrives back at her dorm. She immediately walks down to her friend Tim's room, for Tim, she knows, is in possession of the ultimate weapon.
This weapon comes in many forms, but is known to all by one name: The Nerf Gun.
Tim protests at first, but once he sees the determination on our protagonist's face, he solemnly loads the gun and places it in her hands.
Our protagonist shakes as she holds the Nerf against her temple.
"Does it hurt?"
"Not much. It will be over quickly."
One squeeze of the trigger.

The Nerf dart that pierces her skull bores a hole straight into her common sense. Suddenly, everything is completely clear; our protagonist must embark on a crusade of her own. A crusade not against Turks, but against blank-headedness and dumb questions. She must wage a war against her own mind.

The play concludes with an orange Nerf Gun being carried into battle by our brave protagonist. She has found her wits at last.