This is a true story. What you are about to read is completely true.
When I was in eleventh grade, a long long long long LONG time ago, I did something awesome.
First, I bought stink bombs. Not the kind you light. The good kind with the sulfurous stinky stuff in a little glass vial, and all you have to do is drop them, walk away, and watch the hilarity ensue.
This was great fun. I'd find me a group of popular kids and worm my way into the middle of the group. Then I'd drop my present and walk away.
The rednecks were even better. Just waltz through like you're late for class and drop two of those suckers. But with rednecks, you gotta kinda get out of there fast, because they hit chicks. Especially non-conformist chicks who understand why it's socially unacceptable to fly the Confederate flag.
But that's not really what this story is about.
I had the idea to drop a stink bomb on the schoolbus. It was bitterly cold out and no one could open their windows and the reactions of these people was hysterical. Oh how I wish there was YouTube back then, because it would have been viral.
And then... busted. Some bigmouthed little kid, Mike Shinabery*, found the empty stinkbomb package and ratted me out. The bus driver didn't really know what to do. Should lil ol Rodey skate away with just a warning? Was this worthy of a bus ticket? Or perhaps it was even worse, a trip to Mr. Pearson's office? That man had a mustache to make you quiver, and not in a good way.
No dice for me, I got the trip to the assistant principal's office.
And the ultimate decision was made - four hour after school detention.
Not four days of detention, no. One day. Four hours long. Detention.
I sat it out as long as I could. I really did. But then, about forty five minutes into it, the detention teacher, who was also a special ed teacher, left the room.
We waited, but she didn't come back.
Finally I got an idea.
"Who wants pizza?"
It was unanimous, we all wanted pizza. I brazenly (or maybe not so brazenly) walked up to the teacher's desk, grabbed her phone, and ordered pizza.
"Delivery," I said. "Room A104, Lowell High School."
AND IT WORKED.
They delivered the pizza directly to room A104. Just walked right in there with a pizza.
We ate it. We waited to get busted, but the teacher never came back. No one even came in to check on us. The janitor stopped in to grab the trash and just looked at us. I threw my napkin in his big gray can, staring him down, daring him to say something, but nothing. He shrugged and walked away.
The teacher never came back, so when we were done eating, we all left.
It was a pretty good day.
*His real name. Go ahead, stalk him on facebook. I'm sure he's still a twerp.