Disclaimer: Well, yeah, Officer, I did claim to own Phil of the Future, but, but, um, feel my forehead ... I'm feverish, I tell you.
•BEEP •
Stupid voice mail. Superintendent, in all my eighty-nine years of nursing, I've never seen anything like this. This is Nurse Alasia at Herbert G. Wells Junior/Senior High School and I'm declaring a school-wide medical emergency. It all started first thing this morning, before even the first bell. At first, it seemed like an isolated incident; the second was a laughable coincidence; the third was unsettling. We're twenty minutes away from ten o'clock and we're already up to twenty-three cases and having to placed the victims in the hallways! There's no need to call for a quarantine. Quite the opposite, even though cases are increasing geometrically, the only safe thing to do is close the school early and send everyone home ... at least the boys. Yes, all twenty-three patients, come to think of it, have been boys, and all suffering from head injury, too. Oh, there have been some abrasions and even some broken bones by those falling down staircases, but all have suffered head trauma.
At first I thought it was some sort of inner ear infection, or possibly the cafeteria's very vertigo-inducing veal surprise. I don't know what's causing all these boys to suddenly tumble down stairs, walk into walls, poles and lockers. Maybe the boys are overheating? Our girls seem fine, but then they're the only ones taking advantage of this week's trial suspension of the dress code's no belly button policy - tube tops and midriffs abound. Hmm ... Whatever. For the health and safely of half the student body, I'm sending all male students home immediately. No boys have ever argued about having sent home early before, so why would they start now?
•BEEP •
A.N.: During his school-wide broadcast in "Future Jock," Mr. Hackett reminded the students of the dress code's no navel policy. "Let's cover up those belly buttons, People."
BEEP approaches its 100th chapter:
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