A Very Successful Thursday

A+Very+Successful+Thursday

Aidan Backus, Editor-in-Chief

Satire: the use of humor, irony, exaggeration, or ridicule to expose and criticize people’s stupidity or vices, particularly in the context of contemporary politics and other topical issues.

It was a Thursday and the men and women looked upon the field to find an ungovernable scene.  Chaos reigned and was to be the only victor of the conflict before them.  All natural order had been overturned as the young challenged the old and sanguine red fluid trickled down the backs of participants.  A blunt weapon struck one of the youngest, leaving a nasty bruise across his forehead as he cried out in pain.

The battle was no revolution.

It was lunch.

Bear Creek was no stranger to fighting.  It was just that in the past, the fluid was the blood of students that had been caught up in drama and saw no solution other than to fight it out.  On that Thursday, however, the red stains were from ketchup dumped on a freshman’s head.  The weapons were not tasers, drawn by the police to break up a melee in the parking lot, but rather frozen bottles of water wielded by an errant sophomore.

These food fights had become periodic occurrences, happening multiple times per year, but always on Thursdays.  Since they had begun, anecdotal evidence suggested that the number of actual fights across campus had gone down.  It was argued that getting turnt, trashing freshmen, and laying waste to the quad was healthy behavior for teenagers because it allowed them to blow off steam.

The men and women realized all this; in fact, they’d come to accept the Thursday food fights as not only a normality, but a necessity.  Back in the olden days, when girls ripped each others’ hair out in the office on Valentine’s Day because one was thought to be a side bae, when students assaulted a teacher on his way out of school, when a showdown between coaches — adults! — occurred on the track, the school’s administration had never been able to control hormones and tempers.  Hundreds of students would flock to watch these fights, as if the entire school’s population were Filipino and the troublemaker was Manny Pacquiao himself.  No threats could stop them, not even mass suspensions or — God forbid! — the risk of a cell phone ban.

Now, in exchange for the occasional mess in the quad, the age of violence at Bear Creek was over.  All the clubs on campus would come in tomorrow to clean up their “green spaces,” getting rid of the mess.  The bruised and trashed freshmen were but a small price to pay, and most of their peers agreed that their sacrifices were noble.  A few of the instigators would be given referrals, but punishments after a food fight were but a formality.

After all, administration had planned this the whole time.  ASB had been asked to get everyone’s adrenaline flowing this morning; the Vice Principal had approved the most risque senior dance yet.

It had been a very successful Thursday rally.