The library, aka the den where the school keeps all of their
noisy frisbees laptops and books about vampires, has recently taken on another resident in the hopes of making itself still relevant.
As most people know, stage one of what has been referred to behind closed doors as the “Relevancy Initiative” began when the library purged all of the useless informational tomes and other antiquated and frankly uninteresting novels, such as Fahrenheit 451, in favor of an unholy quantity of vampire romance novels. Eventually, the librarians realized that even the allure of vampires and love (a still undetermined force) wasn’t enough to get today’s teens reading. Thus, stage two was born. In the void where all of the educational books had once been, the library installed their infamous laptops and enacted candy contests in the hopes of luring in a new demographic of illiterate youth. For a while, this appeared to work, as the library was consistently inundated with hordes of students. However, Mrs. Lockwood very soon came to realize that the only thing worse than no students in the library was being unable to keep the filthy urchins that make up Greenville’s student body out of it. Even banishment, a solution recommended by Siebrecht himself, proved unable dissipate the droves that inundated the library on a daily basis. In the hopes of rectifying her actions, Lockwood sabotaged the school laptops, compromising their battery life and rendering them virtually useless as computational devices.
All became well, for one blissfully short period of time. Once again, the library was seen as a less preferable option to stomping the halls or getting high in the bathrooms. However, a new threat emerged several months ago, as administrative whispers trickled down among the lower realms of the school about the library being relocated to somewhere more dismal and lawless than the cafeteria on burrito day: the middle school multipurpose room. Upon hearing this, Mrs. Lockwood had no choice but to act swiftly, knowing that if nothing was done soon, these murmurings would solidify into fact faster than the Senior Seminar. So, she turned to the one thing that had never failed to attain universal appeal: cute fuzzy animals.
Using some leftover candy from one of her contests, Mrs. Lockwood managed to lure in a chipmunk, who she dubbed Alvin (although Hansel or Gretel would have been more fitting). The chipmunk was first introduced to its new home Wednesday, and began causing a stir even before first period. The administration, reportedly tipped off by one of Lockwood’s inner circle who cited concerns about “possibly rabid and certainly filthy” wild animals, sent in their best resources to apprehend the adorable tiny terror. Several custodians were spotted running about with hopes of nabbing the little bundle of rabies, even deploying intricate traps, such as a paper bag with a hole cut in the bottom. Eventually, it was decided that futile Elmer Fudding around in the library was just going to play into Mrs. Lockwood’s hands by drawing in crowds of onlooking students. The school decided to use their old reliable method of acting as if no health and safety violations were taking place, and continued to let students and faculty go about perilously unaware. After all, this had saved them from lawsuits before, when literal shit had been running through the water main.
One tiny alteration was allowed, however, as Mrs. Lockwood shut off all cooling systems in the library, out of fear it would put a swift and messy end to Alvin. Mrs. Palmer, head of the Illuminati Brainwashing sector of the NHS, when informed of this news, simply remarked, “They haven’t caught that thing yet? I was looking forward to them serving fresh meat this week, too…” However, Mrs. Palmer soon picked up the scent of unfinished Math IA`s, and was once again satisfied with the outlook of carnivorous dining options for the week.
Alvin was last seen rummaging within the shelving over by the dismal remains of the history section, the first to venture there in nearly a decade. As all good adoptive parents of wild animals do, Mrs. Lockwood was a bit tentative about leaving him alone over the summer, but after a stern talk about curfew and not nesting in her precious editions of Twilight, she is locking up for the year with the blissful reassurance that for once, she has finally found a way to keep next year’s delinquents from sleeping on her motherfucking couch.