I stood on the street corner, waiting impatiently for the road to clear. At this rate I'd graduate before I got to my first day. I was nervous to say the least. Moving is never fun. Except when your a recluse who's only friends are inside his head. Even then the world has ways to invade your space. Like a sudden and annoying decision on your parents parts to move to the capital, courtesy of random wanderlust. Impulses blow, I decided. Finally, the light changed and I waited patiently as the asshole queue ran out. See, in the big city, red lights are like yellow lights, yellow lights like green lights, and green lights like green lights.
My heart did it's usual Shawn Drover drum solo as I crossed the street, the vicious grins of the steel grilles of many idling hunks of steel looking hungrily on. I made it to other side, and took another dose of elephant tranq. Completing my street cross ritual only once more on my perilous route to school, I dragged myself through the gates of my newest ring of hell. I was immediately swamped with stereotypes. It was like a Disney movie. I could feel my throat back up with "snot" as we speak. I could tell I was going to have a grand time. But I could seek out the emo crowd later, I needed to go see whoever King Arthur was and what was up with the stone age architecture.
I headed for the biggest ring of stone I could find. It seemed I had guessed right. "Administration" was in big stylized letters on the marquee-esque overhang thing that schola architects are so fond of. Another sterile pinecone-scented hall later I was standing in the office of the principal. I felt the starch in the air begin to seep into my clothes. In the chair sat a robot of a woman. Back straight, spine rigid, leg over the other. It's desk was neat and organized, with the felt pad I can never guess the purpose of.
"Jake Murray?"
"Affirm-, uh, I mean yes. Ma'am!" I added quickly before she lazered me.
"Not necessary, Mr. Murray."
"Yes, ma- uh. Okay." I stammered.
"You just moved here to Sacramento, correct?"
"Yes'm."
"Don't be smart with me."
"My sincerest apologies." I offered her a heartwarming smile which she deciphered as a null value. She remained stoic.
"Room 146." She waved me off, brusquely.
"Uh..."
"Something else, Mr. Murray?"
"Could you, er, direct me to that sect- building?" She frowned.
"You didn't attend the orientation?"
"Uhm, I did, but so did Deadstrike 3, in the form of my iTouch." She got that, "Oh dear, we have one of these(the condescension so thick, you could DRIZZLE it on a pancake) types." look on her face.
"The RoBaume LeDot building, the smallest one to the east." I frowned. She pointed. I nodded, smiling awkwardly.
"Oh, of course..." I turned to leave.
"Mister Murray?"
"Yeah?"
"You have your schedule?"
"Uhhhhh..." She sighed.
"Not a very good start, Mr. Murray." She rose, throwing up a cloud of dust.
"After me, Mr. Murray. Come along now."
"Come alon- Oh.." I fidgeted as she led me down a long pinecone-y corridor. I swear, it was a veritable maze. I bet they have murder holes and deathtraps, to keep the students from getting in here and seeing all the scientists in lab coats watching them like rats in an experiment as they tried experimental mood-affecting gases on us. Hell, they had the institutionalized LED lights and everything. Shit, I bet they've even been slipping RLEDs in the cafe fo-
"Mister Murray!" The RoboPal snapped her fingers, which I swear crackled with crispness.
"Uh, sorry, wool-gathering." She frowned again.
"I hope you aren't this distracted in class." I shook my head.
"No ma-. No." She simply did that "Oh dear. One of these" look again and handed my a piece of paper. I took it gingerly, trying not to crinkle it, lest she take it from me to iron it and keep me in her presence.
"Thanks Mrs...?"
"Axilon." ....Wow. She is a robot. I nodded. She pointed at a nearby door.
"That leads outside. Get to class now, you have very little time now." I gave her another charming smile and rolled a 1 on my Charisma test. She simply stoicly turned away and brisqued away. I tentatively opened the door. My nostrils constricted from the fresh air and I felt my muscles and spine relax. I continued my sloth-like hunch of invisibility(It gives a +2 to Hide skill when the jocks pursue, sweaty jock-straps in hand.) and moseyed over to class.
The Bomb Dot building was the smallest, tucked away in the corner like a surly child. I entered, and looked down the long intimidating corridor of classroom, after classroom, after classroom.
"It's a prestigious school!" Mom said. It's a child farm! I thought. A dramatic sigh and a confused search later, I found the right one. I pushed in the door, assumed an air of boredom, and walked in.
My first thought was something like,
FUCK, MOTHERFUCKING SON OF GOD, SWEET GUATEMALAN COKE DEALING SANTA, SHITSHITSHIT!
After that, I got myself in order and panicked more orderly. The room, was MASSIVE. Like, university style large, rows of rows of benches, ampitheatre style (IS THE PLANET MERCURY LIKE THE CRIMSON EYE OF CEREBUS?!). Not ONE seat was open. That's not the worst bit. Apparently the Governator had sex with a Gorilla and the offspring was doused in equal measures of steroids and gamma radiation. Colonel Quaritch was addressing the class when I walked in and froze, my bowels going AWOL. He stopped mid-sentence as the door swung shut like an Australian cab driver before rush hour. He turned to look at me.
"WUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHH!!!!" He screamed at me. I stared blankly on.
"What?"
"I said, Who are you?" He spoke like Professor Xavius from the Left 4 Dead tank.
"Uhh, my name is Jake." I said, my Intelligence dropping as I gawped blankly at him. The onlooking students chuckled.
"That's a nice name Jake. May I ask what you are doing?"
"This is my classroom."
"Is it? May I ask why you did not arrive on time?"
"GX Fourty sev- I mean Mrs. Axilon printed something for me. My, uh, schedule." I held out my schedule dumbly. He ignored it.
"Take a seat."
"Where?" He pointed. My heart plummeted. He was of course, indicating the seat I had missed, between the two hottest women in the room. Like a Tom White song incarnate, I trudged up to my seat, falling into my seat with all the impending doom of Damocles.
"As I was saying..." He continued his spiel. I was too busy with the defibrillator.
"Psst!" ..And the bombshell fell....
"Huh?" I answered.
"New kid! How'd ya like Bentley?" I turned slowly to stare incredulously at her. Seriously? This was a school out of a comic book. Next came the Jock King, Brock. Who everyone called "Chief". And gave out "lessons" to the members of the chess club with stereotypical villainous lines.
"He's quite like a Down-Syndrome kid with a 140 pack of crayons."
"Wat?" It wasn't "What" anymore. The confusion in her voice altered it to the epitome of befuddled.
"I was saying he's colorful." She stared at me blankly.
"You're weird." She said. I nodded.
"I get that a lot."
"You're gonna get a lot worse than that, honey." She turned back.
"What did you say?"
"I said, 'You're going to get a lot worse here.'"
"No, after that."
"Honey?" I felt sick. Sound receded into the distance and a pleasant static filled it. My hands clenched and unclenched. I was dripping sweat, and a pounding was beginning behind my eyes. My breath was short and clipped.
"Are you okay?"
Her voice sounded like it was coming from far away, or shouted down a well. I snarled, fury straining at it's leash like an angry bull. I leaped at her, clapping both hands over her throat. Rage clouded my mind. My sole instinct was to kill, to slay the foul beast that dared utter "Honey" at me. I clenched with all my might, savouring the pure terror filling her eyes as I choked the life from her. I was dimly aware of the Hulk yelling at us and rushing to stop me, the gasps of the other students. The girl's face was turning purple, her eyes bulging with pure panic. I laughed maniacally. I felt a strong arm grab my shoulder, and I instantly bit it. The human jaw can exert up to 120 pounds per square inch, and that was on a good day. I was fueled with rage and with intent to kill. I angled my lower jaw so that it covered the vein, and bit with all my might.
I tasted blood, right away, flesh torn as he tried to pull away. I held on savagely.
"JESUS CHRIST!!!" I let go and Dwayne Johnson tumbled away, clutching at his gushing wrist. I turned back to the girl, whose eyes had rolled up into her head, and was now foaming at the lips. I released her, and rose to my feet. I kicked the body again, fury dispelled, to be replaced by thick, tar-like hate. I glared into the faces of the shocked students.
"Boo!"
The screaming began.
Needless to say, I really hate when strangers call you "Darling" when you don't even know them.
