Parkanoia
Out of all the clubs at Garfield, Mock Trial is one of the most heavily advertised. Posters litter the halls with claims that range from “it’ll give you life skills” to “we have snacks” to “put this on your college application, and you’ll get into Harvard.” It makes one start to wonder: Why are they so desperate for people to join?
“Mock Trial is not at all what it’s made out to be… I think something is truly wrong,” an anonymous tip to the Messenger wrote. “Mr. Truax keeps saying the same things, like that we’re ‘driving him crazy’ and that he’s on the verge of ‘breaking down.’ I honestly don’t know what to make of it.”
During the last Mock Trial meeting, Mr. Truax made members research the legality of crossing a street without a crosswalk. “Yeah, it’s super weird,” a club member said. “He is always making us look up the smallest offenses, like the consequences of getting three parking tickets in a year or running a red light. I don’t think I’ve learned a single thing about preparing for a trial yet.”
Some believe he may have gotten into a minor traffic infraction. “He brings up Youth Traffic Court during APUSH all the time like he’s going to have to go there, even though he’s a fully grown adult. Then he talks about how he’s never gotten a parking fine because his parking is totally ‘fine,’” a concerned student in his class said.
Although Mr. Truax declined an interview, the Messenger staff member who approached him noticed he appeared oddly distracted. “He was frantically glancing around him like he thought someone was watching him. Then he said something about having to be somewhere–I think it was Mycology Club–and ran off while repeatedly murmuring to himself, ‘Shroom, shroom,’” the staff member recounted.
A Bad Trip
At first glance, Mycology Club appears harmless. What could go wrong with studying fungi? Even still, reports of strange odors wafting from the room and unusual behavior from members forced the Messenger to investigate. “I decided to go one day to learn about oyster mushrooms, but all the members were just really focused on eating the mushrooms they’d planted,” a prospective club member said “It was kind of weird, but I still tried some. Then I started to feel strange. It was like I was seeing my whole life happen to me in third person. I don’t have that reaction when my mom cooks them for me… After the meeting, I had to go to Chemistry, and when I went, I understood even less than normal. I didn’t think that was possible.”
In response to these claims, Dr. A decided to look into what kind of mushroom his students had consumed. To his surprise, the container was labeled “Jedi Mind F*ck,” which is a species of psychedelic mushroom. The Mycology Club members were tripping. “Yeah, I knew it was like dangerous and stuff, but I didn’t think it’d be that serious, you know? Like it’s just some shrooms, and this is shroom club. C’mon, what did you expect? I was just trying to be a fun guy,” the person who planted the psychedelics said. “I’m not supposed to tell you this, but it was Dr. A who was really behind it all.” The staff member who interviewed him left a short note: “Yeah, I’m not sure if we can trust this guy.”
A Bloody Awful Discovery
The blood from Blood Club is not being sent to the Red Cross. It’s going to Mr. Z! In a shocking reveal, a cohort of club members came together to reveal this unnerving information. “Please don’t tell [Mr. Z] this, but we’re pretty sure he’s stealing our blood. Last week, a couple of us saw him hauling suspiciously blood-shaped bags after school on his bike… We have no idea why he’d do this, he always seems so normal,” they wrote in a joint statement. Naturally, the Messenger promptly decided to ignore this first request to not tell Mr. Z and confronted him the very same day. “Vhat are you talking about!? Bleh bleh bleh… All this crazy, crazy ghoul-ssip,” he sneered. “It’s za students who suck these days! But even vhile my students can be draining, I vould never do that!!” Then he quickly shuffled away, leaving the interviewer slightly baffled.
Starving Artist Meets Underpaid Teacher
Ms. West lives in a three-foot by three-foot “room” in a tenement-style building in downtown Seattle, according to a perhaps stalkerish student who claimed she saw it first-hand after “accidentally” following her to her home one day after school. “I don’t understand it. I knew teacher salaries were bad, but I didn’t think they were that bad. I mean, I really like Ms. West–she’s like my favorite teacher ever–and I think it’s just so awful she’s living like this,” she said. “I’m not sure, but maybe it has something to do with that club she runs. Lately, I’ve been hearing more people complain about it than Health class.”
For the past three months, Architecture Club members have worked non-stop to create oddly specific floor plans. “Most of the time in that club, we did whatever we wanted. Like hanging out with friends and whatever. But lately, it’s been way different. Ms. West keeps telling me she’ll fail me in beginning art if I don’t finish that second-story library layout. It’s inexplicable, she’s usually so nice,” one Architecture Club member said. The plans dictate a four-story mansion that includes a pool, ballroom, powder room, and four libraries–one for each floor. “She’s completely taken over this club. I don’t even know if I can put my leadership role on my college applications anymore. This is the worst,” the President of the Architecture Club bemoaned.
In response to these accusations, Ms. West said, “First of all, my living quarters are at least one foot larger than that. And, more importantly, I’ve found it important to leverage my position as a teacher to accomplish my goals. As for what exactly that means? That’s up for me to know and not you.” After that, the Messenger decided to back off. They’ll probably figure it out.
Screenagers to Screamagers
It’s no secret that Garfield students have been on the… tired side lately. Ever since COVID, reports of excessive phone use, procrastination, and sleeping in class have skyrocketed. Is it because of online school? Perhaps it’s long COVID? No. It’s zombies.
After much frustration with lacking enthusiasm in her classes, Dr. Rhodes launched an investigation into the matter through HOSA, a club for aspiring health professionals. After blackmailing Mr. Z for blood from Blood Club, they unethically tested more than 100 samples of Garfield students’ blood. “So, one of our club members was filming a video for an AP Government project after school and caught him in the act. And we knew right then that we had the perfect opportunity to find out more about this mysterious disease for Dr. Rhodes,” an unnamed HOSA member confided. Through these samples, they found that “it’s likely more than half of Garfield students are afflicted with some variant of, as we like to call it, zombie-ism.” Symptoms include skulking the halls during class, a lack of school spirit, jaw-droppingly awful grades, a dead social life, and a newfound appetite for brains. “Later studies show us that upwards of three-quarters of seniors may be affected. We think these people may believe that if they eat brains, they’ll somehow gain them. They are mistaken,” Dr. Rhodes said.
