It was a blustery day. The cold that had pervaded the campus for days had seeped into the dorm. As I walked down the stairs towards the lobby, I heard a distant roar. Curious, I ran down the rest of the stairs and swung into the lobby. There, swarms of teenagers roamed around unescorted. My jaw dropped as the children began to pick at posters and climb the walls. Stunned, I started to edge my way around the Calvin Klein- and DKNY-clad masses. Meeting a wall of teenage girls giggling over the antics of boys, I turned around, only to confront more of the children pouring into the lobby.
I started to hyperventilate when I realized I was trapped. There were teenie boppers all around me, closing me in. Frightened, I made a dive through the throngs of GAP jackets toward the safety of the cafeteria. Teenagers sprawled on the floor, their immaculate hair mussed through layers of hair gel. I sped to the food line. As I handed the cafeteria guy my U Card, an insidious sound began to creep towards my sanctuary. I turned and there they were. Cue Sherlock Holmes music: Dum dum dum. It was an invasion of the teenie boppers.
The guy swiped my card and said the dreaded words — “Field Trip.” I thought, “Aww, how cute. They were coming on a field trip to see the school.” Then I realized exactly what that meant and in my haste to be as far away from the hordes as possible, I ran farther into the food line.
But to no avail. I could not escape; they were everywhere. I finally found a seat in the vastly overcrowded dining hall and wedged myself between the wall and a corner to avoid contact with these oh-so-deadly creatures.
Spotting the teenie boppers was not hard — they were the children who couldn’t seem to operate the soda machine or those that couldn’t carry a cup of beverage on the tray.
Doing the only thing I could in a situation as dire as this, I shouted, “Do not eat the pork!” and then whispered, “Unless you like dog.”
A boy with his hand on the pork scoop heard me. He dropped the scoop, splattering pork onto the pristine, white baby tees of the girls around him. He slowly turned green and dropped his tray. Setting off at a dead run he tripped over a lone spoon and flew into the air only to land on his face.
Struggling to stand, the teenie bopper turned a horrible shade of puce and then threw up all over the place.
Teenie boppers from all over the cafeteria dropped their trays in unison. Green was the color of choice for their faces, and soon all the children were running in the direction of the door. Bottlenecking in it, they sought an alternative route through to the bathroom. Grouping together, they fanned out across the cafeteria in what looked like a killer bee swarming pattern. It was truly a show.
Body snatchers are cake compared to the locusts of high school kids. After much calming down by the teacher, students were allowed to continue eating, but none touched the pork. Ha ha, my evil plan has worked.
After choking down another delicious cafeteria meal, I slowly stood up, only to sit back down again at the sound of a whistle. Kids started marching the two-step down the aisles and into the lobby. All coming to a stand-still, they turned and in an eerie tone of voice, said, “Thank you for your hospitality.”
I dropped my tray in the discard pile and hurried back up to my room. This had been quite the adventure, and I was still shaking from the effects of their evil, glassy-eyed stares. Maybe the next group will be smarter and go to Frontier instead. For I, defender of the college faith, shall strike again, just as swiftly and just as deadly. Only this time I will not be so kind as to only use dog, but rat, too.
Watch out body snatchers. The teenie boppers will get you, too.
Dana Ruggiero was later jailed on attempted teenie bopper elimination in our nation’s schools. Send support letters to [email protected]