This strange series of stories from ~1996-97 began as a juvenile satire of the Visitor Information Personnel (or "VIP") program at our high school. VIPs were famous for dressing in tuxedos and roller skates at special school events, where they served as student ambassadors to visitors. Anyway, some of us who were not VIPs liked to make fun of kids who were VIPs, and thus these stories were born. I also used the story to satirize one of my high school pet peeves: smoking.

The stories were supposed to evoke bits of Die Hard (uzi-wielding, tough-talking hero), Raiders of the Lost Ark (wierd gestapo-like group), Star Wars (emperor-like archvillain), and B-movie sci-fi. While the story was meant to be silly and satirical, it probably would have gotten me expelled if I had written it just a few years later. The shooting rampage at Columbine High School would take place in 1999.

"The S.S.S. Series"


Daryl Calrissian reared his head back and cackled psychotically. Everyday I was subjected to the horror of watching his antics. Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do, because Calrissian was untouchable at school as a member of the Rawlings Secret Service. The SSS was an elite group of students supposedly part of the "V.I.P.s," but in reality they were Gestapo-like enforcers of Dr. Rawlingss regime.

"Woofalow!" he shouted at our teacher. "Barky! I need to go to the office to talk to my, uh... counselor." So, of course Mr. Woofalow gave in and let Calrissian go.

I was so mad, I wanted to tear Calrissian apart. I hated his snotty attitude. I wanted to liberate the earth from his existence.

Minutes passed, and suddenly all the power in our room went out. The lights out in the hall were still on, but ours weren't. In a freak coincidence, thunder crashed and it began to storm outside.

Calrissian entered the room wearing different clothes. He was cloaked in a crimson uniform jacket with black pants and a white armband. The band had a large "SSS" written in black. Calrissian drew a WWII-style revolver out of his pocket and laughed again. "Some of you," he said, looking at me, "have been thinking naughty thoughts. I get to take care of that problem."

He didnt make me afraid. I was ready to defend myself.

Daryl waved the gun around as he talked. "Officer White, one of our covert agents, can tap into people's minds. He discovered that everyone in this math class, especially Josh, has had evil thoughts about killing Her Majesty Empress Rawlings."

I had an uzi under my desk. I kept it there for special events like this one. I let Daryl keep babbling.

"I've been waiting so long for a reason to dispose of you, Barky," Calrissian said.

I chuckled to myself. I'd been waiting for the same thing for Daryl. I put on my sunglasses and stood up, uzi pointed at the SSS agent. In the distance, the thunder roared.

"What the hell is that?" Daryl shouted.

"The salvation of this school," I said. I squeezed off several rounds at Daryl's pistol, knocking it across the room. A classmate picked it up and aimed it at Daryl. "Thought you were hot stuff, huh? Well now you're history." And then I pumped his guts full of lead.

Calrissian fell to the floor and a pool of blood surrounded him. It was green. "Oh my gosh!" I exclaimed. On a hunch, I peeled off his face revealing an alien body underneath.

I ripped off my jacket to cover the alien body. Our school rulers were aliens! I decided it was time to clean up the administration and walked into the hall, toward the office.

NEXT WEEK: "Confronting the Alien Queen!"


The hall was bright, bright enough to make my uzi glisten in the light. Just as I took my first steps into the hall, the school's power totally went out, bathing the halls in darkness. Every minute or so, lightning would flare outside.

I crossed the hall and felt along the wall until I found the office doorknob. After opening the door, I swung my uzi into the opening and squeezed off a few rounds. There was no response, so I stepped inside. The walls had a pink slime on them that glowed in the darkness.

"Welcome to hell," said the intercom. "You have discovered our plot, and so you will never leave here alive." Immediately, all the doors slammed shut and I heard several clicks as the locks all locked simultaneously. All the shutters dropped. I was completely confined.

"Noooo!" I yelled. The intercom sparked and exploded as I pelted it with bullets. With no direction at all, I began walking and spraying bullets everywhere, tearing things to pieces. At last, I stood before Dr. Rawlings's (was that her real name? Was she even a she?) office. For the heck of it, I used my uzi to write "School Sucks!" on the wall next to her office with bullets. Then, for dramatic effect, I kicked the door open.

"Die dragon dog!" I screamed. But the room was empty. On her desk was a note written in that glowing pink substance from the walls. It said:

Sorry, young fool. I'm not here. I and my troops have escaped.
Too bad, but you won't be able to do the same. Have fun in hell!

Love and Kisses,
Sarah Rawlings

NEXT WEEK: "Really Confronting the Alien Queen!"


"When you can't breathe, you suffocate. That means you die." (ad slogan)

I threw the note down in disgust. Love and kisses. I wanted to gag, but there were more important things to take care of. I was about to step out of Empress Rawlings's royal chambers, when I smelled the pungent odor of cigarette smoke. Sure enough, I looked down, and there was a smoldering butt.

Well, I had had enough. I left her chambers and surveyed the exits of the main office, all still bolted down. Unfortunately for them, they had underestimated me. I climbed on top of the switchboard desk and pulled out a few ceiling tiles. Then, I grabbed a handful of wires from the intercom and used them to climb up through the ceiling. Once I was up there, I looked around and saw no traps or obstacles. I moved as quickly as possible to my right until I thought I was above the hallway. I kicked out a ceiling tile and jumped down.

Down into a science lab full of students in the dark. I mumbled some apologies to Mrs. Thomas and then went into the hall. I wasn't sure where Rawlings and Her alien cronies would have gone. There were so many places to search, and so little time. Then, in a flood of memory, I remembered the cigarette butt. Maybe, just maybe, they were in the bathroom.

Just as I was about to run into the Commons, a student in a blood-red SSS uniform with three silver stars on the collar shoved me into the wall. It was Pete Pawn, Arch-Prince of the Evil Empire. "Where are you going, boy?" he demanded.

"I'm not going anywhere," I replied. "But you are going to hell!" And I emptied an entire magazine of ammunition into his abdomen. Green "blood' was sent flying in all directions. I grabbed the uniform jacket and put it on, while cursing the SSS band on its sleeve.

I ran into the bathroom, bathed in smoke and an eerie pink glow. There, in front of me, were seven grotesque aliens. They were like green gargoyles with horns and eyes that radiated neon pink light, and they inhaled the smoke like they needed it to survive. To the side, I could see their biomechanical "respirators" which allowed them to keep breathing smoke when they were in human disguise.

"Which of you is Sarah Rawlings?" I demanded.

The ugliest of the aliens stepped forward and smiled. I didn't feel like chatting, so I squeezed the uzi's trigger. Nothing happened.

"Ronald Reagan has taught you well, young honor student. But if you won't join the Pink side, then you must die....pitifully." She began jolting me with arcs of greenish-pink neon electric energy. I started to sizzle.

"Ooooh boy..." I said.

NEXT WEEK: "I'd like a Sarah Rawlings, medium-well."

OR "Simmering Rawlings/Satan Sizzles Slowly!"


There comes a time in every man's life when he realizes he's met the woman of his dreams. Unfortunately, this time I realized that I had met the "woman" of my nightmares. Volts and volts and k-amps and coulombs and watts of crackling energy coursed through my now-crisp body. "Nooooooooooooooooooooooo!" I screamed.

"Come here my pretty!" Rawlings cackled.

I resisted her with all my strength. "No!, Mother, I can feel the..uh.." I choked on the word, "'good' in you. You can still leave the Pink side!"

She didn't fall for that one at all.

Enough was enough. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, whispering "Wax-on, wax-off. Wax-on, wax-off." I raised my arms and one leg, like a crane, jumped in the air and kicked Her Majesty the Empress. She fell to the floor and stopped zapping me. Her pink eyes became black like giant holes with no light. The cloud of smoke grew denser and I began to choke. Rawlings! She was changing! Before my eyes, her arms and legs melted into one green, glumpy glob, and she slithered along the floor. She must not have been in her complete alien form before. Now she was totally, utterly alien. A brain-shaped blob pushed up out of her "head" and it talked.

"Prepare to die, infidel. Your meddling was humorous before, but now it is annoying. We must take over Earth, and you are in the way."

The pink wall opened up, and I could see we weren't in Hazelwood anymore. We were in space. Earth, the sun, and the stars waved at me. Apparently, there was more to this "bathroom" than met the eye. But then I noticed Rawlings. "She" was operating some sort of targeting control, aiming a hideous alien weapon at Earth. What could I do? My uzi wouldn't work, because she was using the Force. My crane-kick had just made her mad. Then it hit me.

With all the lung capacity I could muster, I began blowing the smoke away from Rawlings, so she couldn't breathe it. Huffing and puffing with all my might, I could see my plan was working. Rawlings was holding her breath, waiting to inhale smoke, but I wasn't going to let her. She began to write in agony. I turned blue from all the exhaling. Rawlings screamed in torment. My ulcer made it's presence known. Who would kick the bucket first?

Rawlings twitched one last time and whispered "Polly-wally ump en free!" I had no idea what that meant, except that she was dead.

Well, Rawlings, her SSS, and the alien invasion plan were finished. I had singlehandedly wiped them all out. What could feel better?

....Well, this ship did have missiles. I never really liked President Clinton or my high school in the first place. Maybe I could.....


Back to the Stories Page

Back to the Main Page