In the spring of 2024, the quad saw its first sign of upheaval. Because the cost of green spray paint would blow the budget for our school, we instead chose the old-fashioned method to keep those darn kids off our lawn: put little chains up around the grass so it grows into our own miniature Amazon rainforest.
But now, the graduation for the Class of 2024 is long gone, and just like clockwork, the Class of 2025 needs the quad’s grass to be crisp and lush for their special little day. Despite some misconceptions, Trinity does actually learn from their mistakes. In today’s economy, wooden fences just don’t do the trick anymore, so Trinity created “Operation: Great Wall of China.”
If 4-foot plastic fences are the Great Wall in this flawless analogy, then I suppose that the Mongols kept out are the middle schoolers who choose to sprint from the DAC to the Grille during lunch so they can get there 36 seconds before everyone else.
How unfortunate for them that their phones are locked up in a maximum security prison all day. I guess their only option now is to try to play football in the quad. Oh wait.
Back in my day, the quad used to be filled with seashells from sea to shining sea: our little own underwater Atlantis that stuck little daggers in the bottom of everyone’s shoes. With the new wall up — in hopes to make the quad great again — Atlantis has been washed away.
However, our land-shells aren’t the only thing to magically disappear in the quad. Here comes mystery #2 … sidewalks! Once resembling Harry Potter’s shifting staircases — in the form of pavement going every direction but to the building of your class — our sidewalks have now been Wingardium Leviosa’d away.
It is quite an ingenious plan if I do say so myself. If the reason the quad’s grass is ruined is because everyone walks through it, we should get rid of all the walkways so they have no other option but to trample it!
Despite all of these super awesome and amazing changes our school has made for our benefit, there is one downside I suppose. Every year, one nameless duck migrates to the rock to lay eggs, but now that all methods of navigation have been mowed away, how will she ever make it back to the rock? Only time will tell if she has what it takes to weed through the mighty jungle and plant the seeds of the next duck generation underneath an oversized pebble. Even if we lead to the extinction of duck-kind, at least the grass is finally greener on the other side.
