The Gym Uniform Trash Bags.... A Disturbing Backstory

June 7, 19[REDACTED]. 

It was 10th period, and I couldn’t stop looking at the clock nestled in the back of the classroom. My econ teacher was lounging back in his swivel chair after “teaching” us a lesson about trickle-down economics and was giving me a particularly nasty side eye after I commented that “trickle-down” must have originated from the coffee dribbling down his ironed shirt. Just two more minutes of this class, I thought to myself. After this, I can hang out with my friends on the ultimate frisbee team during practice (NOT sponsored)!

The bell rang, and I sprinted out of room 239, ready for a few hours of decompression and camaraderie, but I collided with an unfortunate sophomore taking AP Euro. Midway through my attempt at squeezing past the freshmen bobbing through the half-floor, I saw an email from my coach: “Meet 10th by the River staircase.” 

Weird, right? People only go to that place for two things: they’re either trying to squeeze in a teeny-tiny nap or perform a hazing ritual on one of the fish from the hydroponics lab. However, I didn’t think about it too hard. I continued down the staircase, brushed by some STC art members gossiping about one of the director’s recent breakups (like always), and threw open the door to the staircase. 

Out of the corner of my eye, the first thing I saw was nothing short of… a dwarf?

It turns out that I just so happened to walk into a delicate trade operation. Everywhere in sight were small, purple smurf-like things waddling to and fro, tying knots and slinging student ID cards over their shoulders as if they were some kind of continental soldiers. My eyes engaged with the center of the operation: a lone locker with a dusty plaque labeled “000.” The door was cracked open just enough to reveal a sliver of the blue void inside, which spewed out a steady stream of sweaty, folded PE uniforms.

At the very edge of the void hovered a figure in a tiny tailored suit holding a small clipboard that looked like one of the PE coach’s. Do they even make them in his size?! He carried a tiny walkie-talkie with the locker monitors and was shrieking orders to maintain the assembly line. “Faster, you fools!” he ordered, sending a piece of a rubber eraser flying towards one of the workers on the assembly line. “The Class of 2031 arrives in exactly 322 days! The PE department has threatened to drain the entire first floor pool if we don’t maintain their five trash bag quota!” A gaggle of purple creatures scurried past me, collectively dragging a gargantuan industrial trash bag packed so tight with navy shorts that it was vibrating on the subatomic level (AP Chem students, anyone?). One of them tripped and ripped the plastic, sending that infamous “plastic smell” and fabric pieces all over the stairway. 

“INTRUDER!” the head creature shouted, pointing his mini-megaphone directly at the furrow between my eyebrows. “He’s seen too much! Someone hit him with the memory-wipe towel!”

Before I could even twitch, a varsity tennis team player who had snuck down to cause some mischief spiked a towel ball in my face. A foul, sweaty smell attacked my eyeballs as the creature shoved one of my arms into a bag. I could barely hear the cries of the tennis player, but I definitely heard, “Ultimate frisbee shouldn’t be a real PSAL sport!”

I tumbled backwards through the door, landing flat on my back outside the Hudson. The last thing I remembered was the mysteriously heavy trash bag emitting a faint, ominous low pitch…

When I opened my eyes again, there was nothing but darkness clouding my view. Was I… in a garbage bag? Within the next few seconds, I felt myself being hauled up by one of the PE coaches. The crinkling sound was deafening, and all I could do was curl up like a pillbug. Hopefully they wouldn’t use me in a lab (Bio, anyone? Anyone?). 

CRASH! They hurled the bag with me in it into the locker and slammed the door. Before I knew it, they had recruited me into their scheme, and I spent the rest of my days conjuring magic spells to contort new uniforms into existence.