by Graham O’Connor
Long ago, there was a time when all students lived in harmony.
But everything changed when the wifi crashed. First, there was the confusion. Then, there was the anger. Fingers pointed and accusations flew. We were *this* close to bloodshed — that’s when Peter B. and I stood up to the challenge and decided to make the trek to the tech office.
A duo reminiscent of Frodo and Sam, Peter B. and I rushed outside of the Dig activity with haste comparable to that of Usain Bolt. Huffing and puffing, we strode down the stairs like elegant gazelles leaping across the serengeti. “Slow down, huh?” said snidely by Josh W., who looked at us with a sniveling, condescending look. If this was Lord of The Rings, he would be that weird pale guy who worked for Saruman.
We sprinted outside, faster than a pair of neutrinos. The cool wind did little to slow us down; we were determined to amend this travesty of justice, of everything sweet and proper. We hesitated for but a moment, to open the frigid handle of the door into the Drinkward Center.
Accepting the gracious gift of warmth of the DC heating system, we did not falter as we scaled the staircases. We were almost there. The door of the tech office was in our sight. A bead of sweat rolled down my face; we were so close. This was it.
We stumbled into the office, gasping for breath. Peter B. made eye contact with Brad Kuhns. My heart nearly skipped a beat. Before Peter’s mouth had even opened, Brad had said, “we’re working on it.”
And with that, we had completed our quest. Now the only issue was getting home.
We trudged down the stairs, our legs weak. It wasn’t until we heard an angelic voice that we were dragged back to the living world — the voice of Brenda C. We couldn’t have done it without her. She kept us company on our travels, and we had an emotional goodbye once we reached the Hall of Greatness.
We walked back into the classroom. The entire Dig staff was hunched over their computers, typing away, undoubtedly enjoying the wifi once more. Peter and I didn’t need a congratulations; we knew what we had done, and we were proud.