The Mythical Lord of the Switch

Conan Maron, Staff Writer

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Some say it never existed. That the concepts of the Switch were nonexistent. That the Switches seemed to transcend across all space and time only to disappear into oblivion without sudden notice. 

Now it has been years since the legendary Alex Suehiro led his crusade of Switch cult members to ravage the grounds of Cal High in the name of religious glory. People originally scoffed at Alex’s campaign to fill up as many lockers as readily possible with Switch for he prophesied a time where there would be an end to all Switch. 

But these critics were all silenced when administrators decided to mysteriously end the sale of this popular drink. 

People quickly understood that Alex’s predictions were right and the only remaining stockpile of Switch were within the confines of the lockers where he and his cult stored them. Students quickly assembled into a mob and converged onto the site of the last remaining Switch on campus. 

But when the student body needed Switch the most, it disappeared. 

Students who relied in the consumption of the various flavors of Switch daily quickly felt the immediate withdrawal from its mysterious disappearance, choosing now to indulge in the many flavors of nicotine to satisfy their fruity cravings. 

Ye old guard of the former Cal High legends have graduated, taking with them the memory of the existence of this holy juice. The underclassmen, never given any memory of the Switch, quickly fell under the influence of nicotine for that is all that they have known. 

The only thing that remains is a poem: 

Three Switches for Reagan up in the sky,

Seven for the swim team in their pools of water,

Nine for the rally committee doomed to irrelevance,

One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne

In the Admin building where the Shadows lie.

One Switch to rule them all, 

One Switch to find them,

One Switch to bring them all and in the darkness bind them

In the Land of Cal High where the Shadows lie.

But I still believe that the Switch are still out there. Somewhere in the land of San Ramon, there lies an untouched stash of our missing holy juice ripe for consumption. And within that stash lies the legendary orange switch. There was only one of these ever made so it has become the one Switch to rule them all.

I will find this lost Switch and bring it back to Cal High so that students will abandon their fiending ways and once again rejoice in the taste of 100 percent of what we need.

Over the hill I went down in the valley where the school of Cal High lies. It had seen better days. A deep cloud caused by the constant vaping lead to permanent fog that always engulfs the campus. 

So onward I went, into the campus I ventured. I heard a noise. It was a long annoying bleep. I knew I must be at ye old Church of Cal High. When I was a mere lad, I was told bedtime stories of the bell tower of the church. It had a legendary fire alarm bell which rang on the hour and its noise could be heard throughout the entire land. 

The fire alarm still rang upon the hour, but now the residents have grown rather annoyed at the sound. Yet every time they attempt to disable the fire alarm forever, some class joker always installs another one so the sound of the fire alarm never stops. 

I went into the church and there in full garb stood the legendary preacher Robert Pitts. Nobody knew where he originated from for his watch over Cal High has lasted before the time where we were born. But some teachers like Jean Dillman have spread the rumor that he is from a land called Téx-aas. 

Pitts saw me and with his long Téx-aas accent said, “Hello fellow traveler, you must be the one who has been led on the quest to find the legendary Orange Switch and bring balance to the realm.” 

“Where do I find the Switch?” I asked.

“Why young fella, to Mount Doom you must travel, climb to the highest peak you must go, to break the nicotine shackle, and free the students in the valley below.” 

Mount Doom? That was a place of endless misery and suffering. Horrible things happened to any Cal High student who chose to venture into its confines. Ordinary people would enter Mount Doom and if they came out alive, they never were the same.

But I had to go there, for Cal High needed me. I said goodbye to Father Pitts and headed to Mount Doom. When I got to the main building, I started my ascension up to the highest peak. 

I started climbing the first major stairway. Near the beginnings of the second, there lay a most peculiar fog. Not the one caused by the rampant nicotine use, but a thicker, more dense type of cloud. With my guard up, I cautiously moved forward. 

While in the middle of this cloud I heard a low growl, and instinctively dove to the ground. A poisonous cloud shot over my head. I looked up and saw the dragon staring right at me. 

The dragon roams the land, spitting poisonous clouds of extinguisher fumes at any unfortunate student. He prays that one day he might get revenge on the Gods who had forsaken him. 

As I struggled to comprehend how I would defeat such a beast, I saw behind the dragon a sword. It was the Sword of Attendance. Legend has it that it was forged in the eternal heat of the sign out sheet. The dragon lunged forward attempting to devour me with its jaws, but I  leaped on top of its head and dove behind it for the sword. 

I grabbed the Sword of Attendance and leaped on the dragon’s back, giving it cut after cut until I saw an opening and stabbed the dragon through its heart. The dragon let out one final roar and fell dead. The soul of the student inside was released to disappear into the suspension deaths of hell. There he could be at peace. 

I looked at the fatal stab wound and there lie the heart of the dragon. But it was no ordinary beating heart. I was looking at the orange Switch. The LEGENDARY orange Switch as the heart of the dragon. 

I reached inside the wound and grabbed the sacred drink. For if the one Switch to rule them all lay inside the body of a dragon, the rest of the Switch must lie nearby. I must keep moving forward. 

To the top of the main building I climbed. Then there at the top lay the final boss, the eye of administration. Forged out of the confines of administration, its unorthodox powers lie in the combinations of powerful deities such as Spain and Briggs.

 It is said the eye is all seeing, no student is safe from it. From on top of its dark tower, the eye casts its unending gaze over Cal High, ready to expose any troublemakers with its sight. 

Lately, with the sacrifice of so many nicotine users, the eye has grown only more powerful. Students can no longer barricade themselves in the bathrooms for the eye can now see through their walls and forever expose their illegal activities. 

The dark tower the eye stood upon had something peculiar about it, then it hit me. The tower was made out of Switch. 

Thousands and thousands of Switch cans were being used not to provide the students with the delicious fruity taste they deserved, but to fuel the enslavement of the eye upon the subjects of Cal High. 

I realized that in order to free the inhabitants of this land, I would have to destroy the Switch once and for all instead of providing its sustenance to my peers. 

I looked upon the eye and the eye looked upon me, its blinding gaze was too much for me so I dove away into a ditch in an attempt to make myself unseen. 

But it was fruitless. The eye only looked straight through the soil and scorched my body. 

Fear rang through me for those who perished before the eye did no go to either heaven or hell, but were doomed to an eternal purgatory in the shadow realm of Monday School. 

But I would not die today for I had an equally powerful weapon in my arsenal. The power of the one Switch to rule them all might be enough to destroy the tower. Pulling the orange Switch out of my pocket, I aimed it straight at the pupil and threw it with all my might. The Switch connected with the eye and it and the tower exploded in a most splendid fashion. 

Thousands of Switch cans flew off the top of the main building in every direction. The juice became embedded in every corner of Cal High.  Down below the inner dungeons of the main building, students felt the chains of bondage loosen as their eternal punishment of Monday School ended. 

Hundreds of students flooded out of their teachers’ classrooms, confused at what they should do with their lives now. One of them saw something shiny in a bush and reached inside to pull out a Switch. On the Switch lay this poem:

The eye has been broken, the students may run free

Without the gaze of admin upon you nor me

But take a look around, for the Switch have come back

There is no need now for nicotine as your quick snack

The Switch lie in bushes or the corners of classrooms 

Instead of the familiar place of the lunchroom

So go out there and look, the Switches are hidden 

You may drink freely, they are no longer forbidden.