A Joke Gone Too Far

Do you want me to start from the beginning? 

Okay, sure, but promise me you won’t get mad. 

It all started around lunchtime, I was in the cafeteria with my friends having fun. The menu for that day was mashed potatoes, green beans, a roll, and Salisbury steak, or at least that’s what the menu said. The mashed potatoes and the green beans were drowning in water. The only things that weren’t dripping wet were the Salisbury steak and the roll which were bone dry. Instead of looking like a white cloud, the potatoes were like gray boogers. The green beans looked like something that came out of the sewer. I already mentioned the Salisbury steak and roll were dry, but they were also hard as rocks. I almost broke one of my teeth on that steak, and my plastic knife snapped in half while trying to slice open the roll. 

We all agreed that the food was horrendous. Charlie said something like, “There’s no way Mrs. Giliculy can be human.” 

Shaun replied with, “Yeah, how can a human make slop like this?”

That’s why I came out and said, “Yeah, she must be an alien!” 

You see? I didn’t mean anything by it. All my friends laughed because they knew it was a joke. I didn’t think that anyone outside our table would hear me. Guess I was wrong. 

Across from our table was Stanley York who, might I just say, takes his job as a reporter too seriously. 

He asked me if I really believed that Mrs. Giliculy was an alien. 

In my defense, how was I supposed to tell that he didn’t know I was joking? I was laughing and smiling when he asked me. How did he not pick up on that? For a quote, unquote reporter, he’s not really that bright. I’m not saying he’s dumb, but you know what he’s like. So yeah, in hindsight, joking around Stanley was not a good idea, but what he did is not my fault. 

Where was I? 

Oh, yes. 

When Stanley York asked if I really believed that Mrs. Giliculy was an alien, I said yes. He asked me if I had any evidence. I looked at my tray and said the mashed potatoes were obviously an alien brain, the green beans were alien blood, the Salisbury steak was a heart and the roll was from an alien baby’s skull. He asked me how I knew all this stuff,  and I told him I was taking an online class on aliens. That was it. That was as far as our conversation went. I never talked to him for about two to three days. By then the memory of my comment was long gone. I had more important things to worry about like which president crossed the Delaware, what’s the correct use for a colon,  what was the ionic number for Rhodium, and what does y equal in 2y+3=9?

I was on my way to Third Period when I saw the long line for the school paper. I was surprised because there was never a line for the paper. I don’t mean to be rude, but nobody really cares about the paper, it’s the truth! No one cares if the chess team won first place, or some kid brought their pet gerbil for show-and-tell, or that  next Wednesday is “Wacky-Shirt-Wednesday.” 

So, I thought it must have been something really important for people to line up at the stand instead of getting to class on time. I thought I might as well check it out, so I stood there in line with everyone else. 

I got up to the stand and I was surprised with what I saw. 

Right there, on the front page, in bold lettering under a picture of Mrs. Giliculy was the headline, “CAFETERIA LADY CONFIRMED TO BE AN ALIEN BY LOCAL EXPERT” 

I thought, “What the heck is this?”

Sitting behind the stand was Stanley and he was grinning from ear to ear. Once he saw me, he stood out of his chair and shook my hand. He thanked me and said he had never sold so many copies before. He gave me a copy for free and said he would be happy to do another interview with me. I said no, and walked on. 

I read the article while heading to class. I was shocked at how seriously Stanley took my little jokes. The more I read the more sick I felt. I must have looked pretty bad when I walked into class because the teacher gave me a hall pass to see the nurse. The nurse lady told me to lie down, but that didn’t help. I soon realized the only way I could feel better was by reminding myself that everyone knew I was joking and that there was no way anyone could take this seriously. 

The bell rang for Fourth Period, and I felt well enough to go back to classes. I was on my way to the Art Studio, trying to get the idea of Stanley’s article out of my head, but I started to notice that everyone was watching me. I’m not saying I was paranoid, I mean that when I looked around a hundred eyes were looking back at me. I could feel them. It reminded me of when I gave a book report in English class, but much, much worse. 

I turned a corner to go down Hallway F when I noticed that there were kids following me. I thought maybe they were just going to class, but then they followed me from hallways E through C. 

I placed one hand on the doorknob of the Art Studio, and they all stopped around me. 

“What is your deal?” I yelled at them. They didn’t say anything. Mr. Roberts had to tell them to leave, and he told them he didn’t like kids crowding around his door. I thought I was safe in the Art Studio, but no. Everyone was supposed to be looking at their canvas, but instead, I noticed some of my classmates looking right at me. 

It only got worse after school. While I was waiting for my folks to pick me up,  a sea of my classmates surrounded me but this time they kept asking me questions like: 

“How do you know so much about aliens?” 

“Have you ever been probed?”  

“How many aliens are out there?”  

“Have you ever been to space?” 

“What are aliens like?” 

I thought answering their questions would make them leave me alone, but they just came up with more questions. I was so relieved when my mom pulled up. I flung open the door, jumped in, and slammed the door shut. 

“Wow, looks like you’re really popular,” my mom said, but I kept silent. 

I dreaded coming back to school. I even faked being sick, but my parents saw straight through it. My dad asked if something happened at school. To be honest, I should have told him right then and there, but I didn’t. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I  didn’t want them to get involved, or they would be disappointed that I would allow a joke to go so far. Whatever the case, I lied and said it was nothing. I’m not sure if he believed me, but he didn’t ask me anything else. 

I didn’t want to go to school, but I had no choice. 

For the rest of the day, I did my best to avoid crowds as much as possible. I ran down the hall instead of walking. Whenever someone asked me a question I kept my mouth shut and kept running.  I skipped lunch and spent the whole time in the restroom stall with the door locked. I thought I was doing a pretty good job. 

The worst part was that I couldn’t spend any time with my friends. It was a difficult sacrifice, but I had to do it. 

To avoid the crowd in the carpool area, I walked to the back of the school instead of the front. I thought I was safe, but I was so, so wrong. 

You see, I cared so much about avoiding the crowd, that I forgot that the seventh-grade bullies that love to hang out around there. 

Now, you didn’t hear it from me, okay?  I don’t think my reputation could take another blow if word got out that I told. I’m only bringing it up to clear my name.  Got it? Okay. 

I did my best to run away from them,  but they were too fast. Before I knew it, I was pinned to the wall and suspended in the air. Howie, the leader, held me up by the end of my collar. They recognized me as the kid who knew all about aliens. 

“So, how do we take the lunch lady  out?” Howie growled. I was taken aback by their question. 

“Wa-what?” I stuttered. Howie lifted up his free hand and I closed my eyes, afraid he was going to punch me, but the punch never came. 

“If we’re going to save the school, then we need to know what her weakness is,” Howie explained, but his answer didn’t make sense to me. 

“Why do you want to save the school?” I asked, afraid of his answer. 

“We’re tired of kids like you calling us bullies,” he said, gritting his teeth. A few of the other bullies backed him with “Yeahs” and “You tell him.” They went silent so he could continue talking.  “If we save the school from the alien lunch lady, then they’ll have no right to call us bullies ever again!” 

I wanted to tell them they could just be nice to us for a change, but I valued my life way too much. I begged him to let me go so I could think. Howie granted my wish, on the condition I didn’t run away. Once he placed me down, I stayed glued to the spot. I was thinking so hard that I got a headache. 

I could have said anything, but I knew that my answer had to make sense, otherwise, the bullies wouldn’t buy it and I would be in even more trouble. 

“Tomato juice!” I said. They each looked at me funny but I didn’t care. “Tomato juice is acidic…”

Jeffery, interrupted me by saying, “Tomatoes contain acid?” 

I knew he was wrong, but if it made sense to him and the rest of the group, who was I to correct him? 

“Yes,” I said. “And if you spray her with enough tomato juice then she’ll…” 

But Jeffery interrupted me again when he said, “Melt away like a witch!” 

He gave out a chuckle before calling himself a genius. 

I asked Howie permission to leave, and he told me to run along. Before I turned the corner I stopped when I heard him call out my name. 

“You better be right!” he shouted. “If not I’m going to…” 

He formed his left hand into a fist and then slammed it against his right. I nodded my head, and that was the last time I saw any of them. 

You see? I was just saying stuff to get out of trouble. They wouldn’t believe me if I told the truth. If it wasn’t for me,  they might have done something a whole lot worse. Who knows maybe I saved Mrs. Giliculy’s life that day. 

In any case, I don’t think you can blame me for what happened next. After all, how was I supposed to know the seventh-grade bullies would… um… do that to her?  It was completely beyond my control. I wasn’t even in the school kitchen when it happened. I was fast asleep in my bed. Ask my parents if you don’t believe me. 

I tell you it’s not my fault that Howie and his gang filled their water guns with tomato juice, snuck into the school, broke into the kitchen, and drenched Mrs. Giliculy from head to toe. 

I didn’t find out about it until the school assembly, and before that, I only heard rumors about why the cafeteria was closed for breakfast. Some said that Mrs. Giliculy was taken by the Men in Black. Others said that she left for her home planet as soon as she realized her cover was blown. What I said to the bullies never crossed my mind.  

Now everyone seems to hate me. Instead of being loved as the alien expert, I’m hated as a liar. Even my friends, who were there when I told the joke, won’t let me eat with them. 

So you see, it’s not my fault what happened. It was a joke that was taken too far which I had no control over,  and I only lied to save my life. 

If you think about it I’m just a victim as Mrs. Giliculy. My only crimes were assuming that Stanley knew how to take a joke, and that running at the back of the school. That’s it. I’m not the one to blame. 

Can I go back to class now or is there anything else you want to know? 

Alright. 

Before I go, could you let the whole school know that I did nothing wrong? 

Okay. 

Bye!