Once upon a time, on a dark and stormy night, while January lightning stretched its unfilled claws around the sky and sopped everything with unnatural electricity, something strange was brewing. Not the strange thing brewing on the spoon the girls down the hall dropped behind their desk, another strange thing. Cowering in a shower stall, an Academy student was writing, creatively.
Now a student writing is not so odd, there is the 15-person creative writing class and all, but the odd thing was how benign the writing was. No violence, no gore, no dolls that had suddenly turned from symbols of gender-stereotyped childhood innocence to heroine-addicted prostitutes pimped by a Satan-worshiping Dr. Williams. Even the language wouldn’t make a Baptist Disney test-audience blink. It was even being written in fluffy, non-threatening pink ink.
An Academy student not trying to shock and impress the world with her depravity? It is a sure sign that the end is nigh. The Apocalypse is coming - RUN!
Now, this is where Super-pagan would usually make and appearance and start cracking some skulls, because, as Academites, we are not only depraved, we’re godless heathens too. And bi-sexual, can’t forget that. That always vaguely offended me, being that I am a godless heathen. I wonder, are the real bi-sexuals are offended too?
Of course, not all Academy students are like that. Not all of them are out to shock their teachers, parents, peers, and the world in general with their freakishness. Unfortunately, the majority of that group is trying to impress the same groups with their God-fearing conservatism.
I suppose, despite the fact that no blood was spilled, no drugs were ingested, imbibed, or injected, no skank hoes were pimped, no spells were cast, and even despite this insipid pink ink, this was still written to stun. This was all orchestrated so you would be shocked and put ill at ease with my scathing candor and bravado in criticizing my peers. Even in the pink and the January lightening this isn’t so strange after all.
The End