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A pitch black room. Generically cheery music plays faintly in the background. A single spotlight turns on, revealing a middle-aged woman sitting at a table, her hands folded neatly in front of her while she smiles the cheapest, most insincere smile you’ve ever had the displeasure to lay eyes on. “Good day, boys and girls...” she says.
“...I trust that you’re all well,” you finish in your head. Your name is John Egbert, and you’ve watched this video five times a week for the past four years. In the past four years, the video has not changed even in the slightest, but it is still insisted that every student in this supposed place of learning be required to sit and listen to this woman’s droning voice each day before the lessons started.
It was absolutely pointless. You wonder for the millionth time why you were even put in this school if you aren’t even learning anything besides the crap you could teach yourself. You wonder for the billionth time what was even the point of showing this video ad nauseum if it never changes, not even once. Just like every other time, you receive no answer from the cosmos or from your peers or from your robotic-looking teachers. No surprise there. You would just go back to attempting to nail this card trick until the video was over.
“We here at the Crocker Corporation have only one goal in mind, and that is the safety and well-being of all you boys and girls. The best way to ensure that is for all of you to listen to your dear old Miss Crocker. Miss Crocker promises not to steer any of you boys and girls in the wrong direction!” She pauses to make that insincere smile even bigger. You know this without even looking up. “Now I know that many of you boys and girls are eager to prove your worth both to us and to your friends. Let me assure you, however, that the best way to stay in our good graces is to not bring unnecessary attention to yourself! It’s a dangerous world out there, boys and girls! We wouldn’t want anyone getting into any unfortunate accidents, now would we?”
“Young man, what are you doing?”
You look up mid-shuffle to see two of your teachers staring down at you. Looks like they caught you not paying attention to dear old Miss Crocker. It wasn’t the first time, and you doubted it would be the last. With a sigh, you stuff the cards back into your pocket. “I’m killing time,” you answer simply.
“Why are you not viewing the video?” one of them asks.
“Because I’ve seen it already. I know what it says.” A stupid answer for a stupid question, you think to yourself.
“That does not excuse you from viewing it today.”
You feel a familiar burning in your stomach, the kind you get when you know you’ve been fed too much bullshit. “And what exactly would be a good excuse? What if I told you that if I watched this video one more time, I would puke my guts out and have to run out of the room in a really attention-drawing way? Would that excuse check out?”
Some of your classmates look on curiously. This is surely more interesting than what that droning old lady had to say. The two teachers exchange a look. “We believe you need some further educating.”
You roll your eyes, grab your things, and walk out of the door in a huff. You know this drill as well. All “further educating” meant was going down the hall to another room identical to the one you just left labeled “Further Education”, watching yet another video that you’ve seen one too many times, and pretending that you’ve learned your lesson when they come in here to get you. You’ll go into this room without much fuss because it’s basically unmonitored, save for a surveillance camera that you’re pretty sure has a sleeping guard on the other side of it. Finally you’ll be able to practice your card trick in peace.
The door shuts and locks behind you as you enter the Further Education room. If the goal behind all of this is to break you, then they’re going to need to do a little better than this.
-
“Your health is very important to us. This is why we provide you with only the best in nutrient-rich foods and nourishments. Be sure to eat all of it--it wouldn’t do to waste! A good meal is the key to boys and girls turning into upstanding young men and women!’
Today’s lunch is Hamburger Helper. You hate Hamburger Helper the most out of the slop they try to feed you every day. Most times you can’t even stand the smell of it. Your usual ritual when it was Hamburger Helper day was to just not get in line for lunch. The goons quickly grew wise to that, and so now you usually just grab the smallest portion possible, move it around on your plate a little, and then throw it out at the end of the lunch hour. That leaves you unbothered mostly, but you know better than to get used to it. There’s no telling how much time you have before you need to think of another plan--
“Why are you not eating your lunch?” you hear from above your seat.
Apparently, you have no time to think of that plan.
“I don’t like it,” you say bluntly.
“You must eat your food,” one of the two adults hounding you says.
“I’ll eat something else later.”
“You must eat what is in front you,” the other adult says. You think his tone is supposed to make you more inclined to do what he says. It’s actually just making you more inclined to get angry.
“Well, you know what? I didn’t even want to get this plate, but you couldn’t have that either. Me having the plate doesn’t make me want to eat it. So I can’t not have a plate, can’t not eat the food, can’t have you guys not giving me grief for more than five seconds, can I?” You don’t realize you are shouting until you look around and see some of the other kids looking at you, along with the two goons giving each other that look you know so well.
“...We think you may need some further educating.”
God fucking dammit. You were sure that lunchtime was the one time you were safe from getting sent away to that place. No such luck, it seems. Oh well. You’ll just do the bullshitting that’s reserved for lunchtime in the Further Education room. A little change of scenery never killed anybody, though your school definitely gets points for trying. You stand up, make a big scene of throwing away your plate, and stalk out the double doors and into the hallway.
The sun is shining brightly through the hallway’s windows. It does lift your spirits a little, however it is not without that uneasy feeling you always get when you look outside--
Tap!
You stop in your tracks. You’re not sure, but you think someone is out there throwing rocks at the window. Cautiously you step nearer to the closest window in front of you...
Tap!
Instinctively you jump back, and then fight the urge to kick yourself for doing a stupid thing like that. It’s a window, dumbass. The tiny rock isn’t going to get through. As you step up to the window again, you see that the rock-throwing culprit is laughing at you.
It’s a girl, about your age. She has long untamed hair, a smile that’s too sharp, and a glint in her eye that makes you think she’s scheming up ways to swindle old people. She’s got to be the coolest-looking girl you’ve ever seen.
You notice that she’s beckoning you. Now that you think of it, how the hell did she manage getting away with not coming to school today? He could just go out there like she evidently wants and ask her, but that would require both skipping out of further education and escaping the building during school hours. You look back down the hall and then outside again, where the girl now has her arms crossed, her expression growing more irritated. If she somehow pulled it off, then you sure could. The time had finally come to test out whether the guard in the surveillance room was sleeping or not.
Without a second thought, you head to the nearest unmanned exit.
-
“As stated before, we here at the Crocker corporation care very much for your safety and well-being. It may seem that some of the rules we have in place are too strict, unfair, or biased, but if all of these rules are followed, along with all of the authority of your elders and Crocker representatives respected, we can assure you that your way of life will satisfactorily meet both of our standards.”
Her name is Vriska Serket, and she has been a truant for over two years now. When you meet her outside, she drags you along to this shadow-enshrouded hole in the wall and tells you a story grand enough to be a blockbuster movie. She talks about how one day she just stopped showing up for class, and how she made herself scarce whenever the Crocker goons came looking for her. She talks about how she’s been trying to learn more about Crocker’s empire, about the things they don’t show in the countless videos, and how she’s ready to rip it all out of her claws, starting with the school.
Your eyebrows shoot up. “Vriska, I’m sure you’ve got amazing plans and all, but...this is an empire we’re talking about! And you’re just one person!”
With a knowing smile, she reaches into a nearby bag and pulls out a folder. “You know all those videos and announcements they insist on playing every day. I’m sure you’ve wondered once or twice why they insist on doing this.” She opens the folder between the two of you. There are stills of the video spilling out, all plastered with the face of the woman herself--good old Betty. “It’s meant to keep you docile, and quiet, and unquestioning. They want you to fear them. But then that brings up the question, ‘why go to such lengths to display the power everyone knows you already have?’ Why indeed?” She leaves the question hanging in the air as one of her hands splays over the topmost photo.
“Enlighten me,” you say almost automatically. You’re hanging onto every word.
“Because...” she answers, pausing yet again to pick up the photo. “They don’t want you...to find out...” She’s laying on the dramatic tension pretty thick here, and you’re falling for it, hook, line, and sinker.
“...To find out that...?” you prompt.
Her smile fades as she crumbles up the picture in her hand. “That they’re the ones who fear us. Not the other way around. It’s high time we gave them something worth fearing, don’t you think?” She looks you dead in the eyes, completely solemn. “You’re also right about me being just one person. It’s going to take more than one person to pull this off.” Her smile returned full force. “Which is why I have you.”
You’re sure this Vriska girl is completely out of her mind. You’re also sure that she’s got hypnosis or mind powers or something because you still want to know more. “Why me?” you ask.
“You were on your way to further education when you saw me, weren’t you?”
“Well, yeah...”
“Then you’re exactly the person I need.”
You chuckle at the simple logic...and then gasp. The mentioning of “further education” brings you back to the reality that you can’t be caught MIA. “I need to get going,” you say as you stand up and search for the way you came in.
“But you’ll be back, right?” you hear right before you exit.
You pause. Is she giving you a choice in the matter? Assuming she is, what will you do? Do you really feel up to the task of setting off the beginnings of a hare-brained rebellion? Surprisingly, the answer comes to you quickly. “Yeah, I’ll be back.”
Vriska smiles that wicked, too-sharp smile. “Get going then. Come find me after school lets out today.” You nod and continue heading out. “And John?” she adds before you’re out the door. You look over your shoulder at her. “Be a good boy today!” she says brightly.
--
There is no manhunt for you once you return to school grounds, so you are easily able to slip into the Further Education room, finish your time there, and then finish the rest of your day. After school, you’re sure that you look like a bumbling idiot wandering around the streets in search of a wild-haired vagabond. It’s probably how Vriska can find you so easily and drag you back to that shady place from earlier.
“Here’s how Phase One is going to go: John, I need you to be good.”
“Haha, okay yeah I get it, Vriska. I’ll be good.”
“I’m serious.”
You look at her like she’s crazy. You have a feeling you’re going to be doing that very often.
“You need a cover. Do whatever the goons say, watch the videos with the utmost interest, don’t make waves. After you’ve gone two straight weeks without incident, get yourself into further education. We’ll talk about Phase Two from there.”
You grimace at the thought of the next two weeks filled with sheeplike obedience. “Is this some sort of cruel and unusual punishment for a crime I’m not aware I did?” you ask glumly.
“Quit being a baby,” she snaps, leafing through the papers in her “Plans” folder. “How about this: if your two weeks of good behavior goes off without a hitch, I’ll give you something for all your trouble!” Even though you’re not sure what she could possibly give you as compensation, you agree.
For the next two weeks, true to your word, you are good. You stop practicing your magic tricks during school hours. You pay attention to the videos as if you’ve seen them for the first time. You even choke down the dreaded Hamburger Helper one day. When the school day ends, Vriska appears somewhere along your way home, ushers you to that shady-looking place that you now know as HQ, and asks you if you’ve been good. You answer positively with “Yes Vriska, I’ve been very good today.” She nods her approval and fills you in on a little of what will happen during Phase Two. Eventually, she’s told you enough for you to know that it involves the broadcasting system that keeps the videos playing according to schedule. “I’m not looking to pull off a coup d’etat,” she explains on day 10, “Not yet, at least. I’m just trying to plant the seeds of unrest.”
On day 13, after your usual call and response on whether you’ve been good this particular day, Vriska sits you down, pen and pad of paper in hand.
“It’s a little early to be starting your autobiography, don’t you think?” you point out with a smirk.
“Quiet from the peanut gallery!” she says without looking up. After she jots a few things down (you try to sneak a peek but she pulls the notepad out of your line of vision), she gives you that scheming look that you’ve grown to love and fear. “Tell me, John: what is it about your pre-established way of life that you hate the most?”
You furrow your eyebrows in thought. You guess there’s a lot of things you hate about it, but you never really said anything or told anyone because you all were in the same boat. Of course you grumbled a little...okay, you grumbled every chance you got, but you didn’t really suspect that anyone was actually listening to you. Now, someone is asking you to grumble and complain--imagine that! You think you’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time. “I think what bugs me the most is that they’re trying so hard to make me idolize them and act like them, when it’s ridiculously clear that what they really want me to be is nothing. A robot. Less than a robot.”
“Exactly!” Vriska says with so much vigor that you jump in surprise and nearly topple out of your seat. “That’s exactly what they want! To strip away your individuality until all that’s left is a cold, unfeeling, completely obedient blob. It’s too late though, isn’t it John?” She approaches you and leans forward until she is well within your personal space. Much to your embarrassment, it sends your heart racing. “Because the feelings of rebellion are already stirring within you, too persistent to ignore. Aren’t they, John?”
You gulp. Perhaps there are more than just rebellious feelings stirring within you.
“Tell me more,” she says, retreating to give you your space. “Tell me everything you’ve wanted to say, everything that’s ever pissed you off. I want no stone unturned.”
You do exactly that. At one point, you’re able to just barely see what she’s writing. Her B’s look a little like 8’s. How cute.
--
“I know that you boys and girls are inclined to bonding with your peers, but do keep in mind that you are still young! There will be plenty of time when you are adults to participate in such abhorr-- ahem. Such wonderful displays of love. That being said, we frown upon fraternization with your peers. We wouldn’t want to have to come over there and separate you!”
At the end of day 14, it is you who finds Vriska. When you knock on the door of HQ, she is out of her seat like a shot, only relaxing when she clearly sees it’s you. “Fourteen days have passed, and I have been the best boy those goons could’ve asked for. I believe you owe me some compensation.” On the word “you,” you point to her as dramatically as you can muster.
She snorts and meets you at the doorway. “I haven’t forgotten my promise,” she says casually. Before you realize that she’s invaded your personal space again, she delivers a soft kiss to your cheek. You hate to admit it, but it has you blushing furiously. “Your reward for good behavior,” she says, speaking directly into your ear.
You take two seconds to gather your wits before you look at her. To your pleasant surprise, she is blushing too. “That...was kind of a cheap reward, Vriska,” you say, unable to keep yourself from cracking a smile.
She gapes, and then sputters out, “Excuse you? Nothing given by Vriska Serket is cheap! You should be eternally grateful that I gave you anything at all!”
You shrug and turn away from her slightly. “All I’m saying is that I force-fed myself Hamburger Helper, the food I hate most in the world, for you. Just consider that for a second.”
The room goes quiet. Could it be that she actually is considering it? “Did you have Hamburger Helper today?” she asks.
“Ugh. No, thank God,” you answer quickly. In a split second, your shoulders are being turned to face her and she has her lips pressed against yours.
Now this is a more fitting reward.
--
The time to be bad again has once again arrived. Vriska tells you that it doesn’t matter what you do; just end up in the Further Education room. You ask what’s so important in that room?
“A camera,” she says simply.
“Uh, there’s camera’s throughout the entire school,” you remind her.
“Yes, but I’m pretty sure that none of them go nearly as unmonitored as that one.” You concede; that is an excellent point. “I just need you to look in there and find out if it has any visible wires. Don’t fuck with the wires. Don’t fuck with the camera. Just look, do your time, get out of there, and report back to me.”
“Then we move into Phase Three, right?”
She smiles and nods. “The third and final phase. All my planning has been leading up to this.” She turns to you; how is it that you find yourself locked in that vice-like gaze of hers time and again? “I hope you’re not camera shy!”
You frown with the utmost confusion. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”
“You’re gonna be late for school, John!” And with that cryptic note, she pushes you towards the double doors and skips away.
--
A week later, at the beginning of another school day, the role is being called. Your name is next on the list...
“Egbert, John.”
…But you are not there to respond.
“Egbert, John. Where is student Egbert?”
You can’t tell them at the moment where you are, but they’ll be finding out soon enough.
“Report this to the truancy office,” the teacher says to the other authority in the room. Just as that person is leaving, the television in an overwhelming display of static and white noise. Every person in the room is startled; the Crocker announcements aren’t supposed to start for another five minutes, after all. What slowly appears on the screen is not the familiar visage of Miss Crocker for once.
Today it is the image of you, alongside your girlfriend and partner in crime, Vriska.
“Helloooooooo, boys and girls!” Vriska starts, moving up so her face fills the screen. “We are not so sorry to report that Miss Batterbitch will not be delivering your announcements today. Instead, you get a very special announcement from the two of us. Ready? Here it is.”
She backs off so that the camera can see you again. You take a deep breath. “Stop letting Betty Crocker treat you like ignorant children,” you say loudly and clearly, just like you practiced. “Because you’re not. You’re smart and you can think for yourselves.”
“So start thinking what you want!” Vriska pipes up.
“Do what you want,” you add.
“Live how you want!”
“Love who you want.” The two of you exchange a glance.
“And give a big ‘fuck you’ to whoever tries to stop you.”
“We know that some of you are tired of being puppets. The rest of you haven’t realized that you are a puppet yet. Either way, when you’re ready to cut the final string, come find us.”
“We’ll be waiting!” The two of you smile simultaneously just as the door bursts open.
The television signal is fading, leaving the image of what’s happening in the recorded area blurry and filled with static. You both turn to face your new guests, a group of heavily armored bionic soldiers.
“Oh hey there! Thanks for knocking!” Vriska can be heard saying through the white noise. “We’ve been expecting you, haven’t we, John?”
“Sure have!” The two of you arm yourselves with what appears to be impressive weaponry even through the steadily failing picture quality. You turn to Vriska, your voice no longer audible via the television screens. “You ready for this?”
“I was born ready,” she answers. The soldiers take big, slow steps towards you that shake the ground.
The screen goes black. For a few seconds, nothing happens. Then, after a slight flickering, Miss Crocker’s face fills the screen, like it has every other morning. It plays the last few moments of the morning announcement.
“--for you. We are willing and able to provide everything you could possibly want or need. Put to rest all of your needless stresses or worries, and leave all of the caring to us. Have a good day of learning, boys and girls. With love, your dear friend Miss Betty Crocker.”