Legends of Stuyvesant High School

As we start a new school year, it's time to acquaint freshmen with the mysterious legends of Stuyvesant.

Reading Time: 3 minutes

Once more, Satan has come to reap our souls from our bodies as the school year begins anew in a never-ending cycle of despair that reminds us all of our fragile and pitiful existence. This year we welcome the freshmen, who come into our arms with wonder in their eyes and joy in their hearts, with little knowledge of what they are getting themselves into. Of course, like any great society, Stuyvesant has its own well-documented mythology, passed down from generations of students who have managed to somehow have every person in their family get into Stuyvesant. Therefore, it is up to us at The Spectator to teach the youths the ancient legends that have been passed down through the years at our school.

The 11th-Floor Pool

Seen only briefly on students’ schedules before the start of every semester, the 11th-floor pool is a mysterious realm that every student has heard of. There resides the monster-deity Talos, master of destruction and chaos, ruler of our demented website. Talos sucks away at students’ hopes and dreams of their program change requests ever being fulfilled, occupying an island of kickboards in the pool that is mostly a mixture of chlorine and urine and surrounded by a ring of Razor™ scooters just waiting to utterly annihilate the ankles of any brave soul who tries to defeat Talos, thus bringing peace to our realm. Also, it's on the 11th floor, so let’s face it, no one’s actually going to climb all those stairs.

The Juul Pod Harvest

Once every new moon, there are reports of shadowy creatures crawling into the halls and searching from the impenetrable lockers, to the sticky floors of the gym locker rooms, the otherworldly senior bar, and the murky depths of every toilet stall. They run at the first light of dawn, hissing about how this month’s bounty will make the Juul Lords very pleased. We aren’t sure who exactly the Juul Lords are, but we do know that they require an abundance, otherwise bad things are sure to happen. Coincidentally, it can be noted that about a week later Club Pub funds go up significantly.

The Escalators

Long ago, Stuyvesant High School lived in harmony. Then, everything changed when the Escalator Nation attacked. Only the DOE, master of all four elements (suspicious meals, poorly allocated funding, no-snow days, and bureaucracy), could stop them, but when the school needed it most, it vanished. A hundred days passed and the Spectator Humor department discovered that we’re getting new escalators (?) at some point in the next two years (maybe?), and though their transportation skills are great, they need years of academy training before they’re ready to save anyone. But I believe the new escalators can save the school.

The Student Union

Only a few brave souls have ever dared to enter the dark and mysterious chambers of the Student Union room in past years without being a member, and none have ever lived to tell the tale of what they had seen. However, there have been several sightings of them meeting every September in Battery Park around a fire, wearing extra large gym shirts that they appear to be using as cult-like robes, while roasting a sacrificial lamb. It is here that they induct new members by having them drink Muji pen ink and sell their souls to Stuyvesant in exchange for entrance to their dream colleges.

With this holy knowledge bestowed upon you, youngerlings, may you walk the halls of these schools confident of what is within the walls: government wiretaps listening to all of your deepest secrets. Let the school year not defeat you as you go on a quest to battle the never-ending onslaught of work and unhappiness that is your life.