The AB Report

A look into the Criminal Underworld that Haunts WPGA (satire)

By: Ethan Jasny (Grade 10)

Does is ever feel like there’s a cloud hanging over the school? Some mystic, evil entity that makes you uneasy? A division, a divide in the school’s backbone? I have long felt that there was something mysterious besieging our school. Some secret. Some conspiracy. And then, last Monday, I found it.

Aaron Bohnen, Amanda Breslin, Andrew Bendl. What do these teachers have in common? That’s right: the initials A. B. But this could be no funny coincidence. This was something much deeper: a massive trench dividing the WPGA faculty. What I found will shock and surprise you– this is the true WPGA– the true AB. This is the AB report.

I started doing my research. I looked back at old yearbooks, and in all of them, Mr. Bohnen, Ms. Breslin, and Mr. Bendl were right next to each other. How could this be? Had they bribed the photographer or Mr. Peltier to keep them together? In any case, the three of them were alone, looking across the page of unsuspecting teachers, ready to strike.

And then, I started hearing the rumours. Just short, little clues that shot out of the teacher’s classes and into my ears. “Mr. Bohnen… hydrochloric acid.” “Ms. Breslin… cow eyes.” “Mr. Bendl… Vietnam War.” Was Mr. Bohnen poisoning other teachers with acid? Was Ms. Breslin murdering cows? Was Mr. Bendl solely responsible for the Vietnam War? No. AB was.

AB was an international crime syndicate, with other members including Aaron Burr, who murdered Alexander Hamilton, Alec Baldwin, who punched a random person in the face, Andrew Berry, who is on trial for the death of his two kids, and Andy Borowitz, a satirical writer for the New York Times: and we all know that satire is evil. AB was an organisation that had been around for hundreds of years, that had worked across the entire globe, and now, it was located here at WPGA, the only place where three ABs worked right down the hall from one another. There could be no mistake.

Then it hit me. I was the only one who knew about the evil ways of AB. The only one who knew their headquarters. I had a duty to act. I went up to Mr. Bohnen and asked him about AB. He denied everything, saying that he never held his initials over other teachers and that it was really just a minor inconvenience. I couldn’t believe it but maybe it was true. Maybe I was kidding myself.

That night, I walked home from school in the rain, trudging across the muddy Trimble Park field, confused about the whole situation. Then, there was a gunshot. I fell to the ground. The sound of the gun reverberated off the playground equipment and trees, but when it came back to me, it was no longer a gunshot. It was a voice whispering, “AB.”