Please do not hate on this story, the warnings are in the description and you don't have to read it if you don't like something mentioned there. Any sick jokes or crudeness is entirely for humor or just me messing around. Not saying school shootings are funny, just that the jokes in this story might be weird, immature, sick, or whatever.

This story is heavily based on a satire "trollfic" (although I consider it a "beautiful work of art") called Warriors High: Psycho, by Silver Convict.

Redstripe walked down the stairwell toward the school cafeteria, keeping toward the back end of the chaos. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a note from earlier that he hadn't read.

BACK TABLE, THIRD ROW

BRING THE MONEY

DON'T LET ANYONE ELSE SEE THIS OR I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU

(And a hastily scribbled signature.)

Redstripe felt around in his other pocket and grinned when he felt the familiar paper of his 20-dollar bill. Quickly he jumped the last five steps of the stairwell and raced toward his destination in the cafeteria. His friend Icescar was there waiting for him, and greeted him. making sure nobody was looking, Redstripe got the money out of his pocket and passed it to Icescar under the table.

"Cool. Now let's head to the bathroom and I'll give it to you."

Redstripe didn't like the cafeteria's bathrooms. They were quite a hotspot for the two things Redstripe hated most about high school: fighting, and sex. Cats would often go here just to beat each other up, and some would sneak into a stall with their boyfriends or girlfriends and have some fun. Normally it was just kissing, but that seemed to evolve over the years.

Icescar checked to make sure nobody was in this bathroom; they'd gone right at the start of lunchtime so there wasn't much of a chance that other cats would be using it.

"Okay, here's what I've got." Icescar pulled a thin blue vape pen out of a pocket in his backpack. It had a black "Cookies" label on it.

"This doesn't look like the one you gave me last Friday."

"It's the same thing, dumbass."

"Does it still work the same way?"

"Yeah, but you need a cartridge for it."

"Where do I get one of those?"

Icescar shrugged. "Anywhere."

"That's bullshit! I gave you fifty dollars last week for the Hyde one, and you took that back. Now you're telling me this one doesn't have a cartridge? How the fuck am I supposed to just go out and buy a cartridge anyway? I'm sixteen years old! Barely!"

"I don't know. I'll try to get you another Hyde, but I can't promise that I'll find one. Try to get something out of this one for now."

Redstripe huffed, took the vape pen, stuck it in his backpack, and left the bathroom just in time to hear his row called to get their lunches.

He just didn't understand why it was so easy for Icescar, another 16 year old, to buy fucking vapes. If only he could do that.

Pfft, whatever.

Later in class, Redstripe was bored. He wanted to talk to Icescar, but he and most of Redstripe's other friends sat on the other side of the room. Mr. Thornclaw was rambling on and on about some dumb shit he didn't need to know. It was so boring.

He knew this was stupid, but Redstripe was desperate to cause a scene, and let something different happen for once.

"Hey Mr. Thornclaw! Teach us how to shoot a gun!"

A small portion of the class laughed, another portion exchanged awkward glances, some muttering "what the fuck?", Another laughed AT Redstripe, and another stayed quiet. Those were the good kids.

"Redstripe, that's not funny. You'll be in detention tomorrow, and see me after class."

The lesson continued.

"HEY MISTER FUCKING THORN BOY! I WANNA SEE YOUR FUCKING RIFLE, CLOWN! TAKE THAT SHIT OUT AND SHOW US HOW IT WORKS!"

More of the class roared in laughter this time. Even some of the good kids couldn't keep their pretty little mouths shut.

Mr. Thornclaw stared lazers through the skulls of every giggling cat in the class, his face growing red with annoyed irritation.

"Everyone, that wasn't funny. Next person who laughs will have detention the entire WEEK, and if you think I'm kidding, try me!

The lesson continued.

"YOOOO! MR. THORNY BOY! WHY DID THE CHICKEN CROSS THE ROAD? BECAUSE HE WANTED TO SHOOT MR. THORN BOY IN THE FACE! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Almost the entire class was laughing.

Thornclaw was now irritated to an unfathomable level. His face was red as a cherry, and he was growling like a maniac. He especially hated being called "thorn boy", which was the main reason he got so upset. But before he could calm himself down, his anger towards his students spilled over the top.

Mr. Thornclaw pulled a real RIFLE out of his backpack, pointing it towards the class who, now, weren't laughing. They were scared to death, slowly scooting backward in their chairs, paws up, frozen with fear.

"YEAH, YOU SAID YOU WANNA KNOW HOW TO SHOOT A FUCKING RIFLE! WELCOME TO THORNCLAW'S RIFLE 101! SO ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS PULL THE TRIGGER LIKE THIS, AND-"

He shot a student named Featherwing in the face.

Everyone screamed, and the room fell into chaos. Some cats ran, trying to get as far away from the bloody sight as possible, while others froze up like idiots, desperately hoping Thornclaw wouldn't shoot them.

Redstripe was slightly afraid, but didn't care. He ran up to his teacher, who was evilly watching the scene, and punched him hard in the jaw, leaving a nasty mark.

"This is for shooting my girlfriend's friend!"

Thornclaw turned on Redstripe, pointing the rifle directly at his forehead. He cackled like a witch, his paw on the trigger and his disgusting breath, which smelled like year-old eggs, blew into Redstripe's face.

"What a foolish little kitten. This is for being too stupid to realize that I have a deadly weapon.

"Prepare to die, Redshit."

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