Filling the Graduation Cube

The CCP chooses what to put inside the co2024 graduation cube.

Reading Time: 3 minutes

Cover Image
By Sophia Huang

“Cube Council People, thank you all for coming to this meeting today,” Mr. Polazzo said, clapping his hands together. The CCP, sitting around the SU room table, nodded fervently. “You’re all seniors, so we asked you to bring in something unique that represents the 2023-2024 school year. Ken, I see you’re squirming with delight, so why don’t you go first?”

“Ooh! OOH! Yassss, Xi Jinping!” Ken frothed at the mouth, squirming with delight.

“Just because we are the CCP does not mean I am Xi Jinping.”

Ken stood on his knees and shuffled closer to the table. He took out a little plastic bag and began shaking the contents out next to the open glass cube.

“I dismembered a Barbie. OOH!” Ken said gleefully. “Margot Robbie was a sensation in the summer of ‘23. What a glorious woman!” A bare plastic leg tumbled out of the bag. “Champion of femininity.” Two strands of golden hair floated out onto the tabletop. “OOH!”

Nothing else was in the bag. Mr. Polazzo looked at the doll’s body parts. “Where is the rest of the doll?” he asked.

Ken farted.

“All right.”

Ken petted the barefoot leg before dropping it gently into the cube. The golden Barbie hairs fluttered in on top, garnishing the toes.

“Next person!” cried Mr. Polazzo.

“You know how the co2024 seniors are really into pigeons?” Elmo said, crawling up from the floor. “That’s why I brought a dead one.”

Elmo smacked a feathery lump onto the table.

“Why did you bring a dead pigeon into the school?” Mr. Polazzo asked.

“Ah ah ah, it’s dead and taxidermied.”

“All right.”

“Hey, I ALSO brought a dead taxidermied bird!” Taxidermiedbluejayman cried indignantly. “President Xi Jinping, people are copying meee!”

“My name is not Xi Jinping,” Mr. Polazzo said.

Taxidermiedbluejayman retrieved a taxidermied blue jay and tossed it onto the table. It bounced off the table and schlooped into Mr. Polazzo’s ear canal.

“Ow!” Mr. Polazzo said.

“My dead taxidermied bird represents the slow, agonizing, ongoing death of X-formerly-called-Twitter,” Taxidermiedbluejayman said righteously.

“I don’t know if we can fit two dead taxidermied birds into the cube,” Mr. Polazzo said. “But we can try. Next person?”

“Hai!” Logan Paul said.

“You are not relevant,” Mr. Polazzo said. “Please leave.”

“I’m sorry,” Logan Paul said. “I made a severe and continuous lapse in my judgment, and I don’t expect to be forgiven. I’m gonna get off all social media. I’m gonna get off TikTok.”

Mr. Polazzo let out a scream and dropped to his knees. “No, no, LOGAN! Please stay, PLEASE!” He curled up and began to mumble and spasm in fetal position. “First Congress, and now even Logan Paul… why does nobody like TikTok?… and over such a minor comment I made…”

“Did someone say A minor?” Kendrick Lamar busted down the door. “Howdy y’all. I brought Drake for the cube.” Over his shoulder, Drake peeped shyly. Kendrick shoved Drake inside the room, throwing him roughly into a chair.

“HOTLINE BLLLLING! HOTLINE BLLLLING!” Drake screamed, like a choking Bart Simpson.

Kendrick dusted off his hands and began to square up.

“Drakey wakey,” Kendrick giggled, wiggling his hips. “It’s time to commence the harvest!”

“NO, PLEASE!” Drake shrieked.

And Kendrick pounced.