Part 7

Sopowitz is getting on my case. I thought the jerk learned when I fired him and nuked his pension and trashed his bank account
But, I guess some people are born stupid.

I'm standing outside the office. Sopowitz just gave me the fire and brimstone act over rigging the P.A. system to play a very rude song at lunchtime. I am fuming. Normally I'd be mildly annoyed, but as it happens I was not responsible for this act against the establishment. Sopowitz and several faculty members decided that I was the most likely candidate. And after a bout of "Chinese Whispers", my being the likely candidate turned into my being responsible. Of course, Sopowitz wasn't amused when I asked for substantiating evidence - as he had none. But that didn't matter, he was on a crusade and he hates me, so why worry about a little matter of whether or not I'm guilty?

So there I am standing outside his office. My mind is trying to remember where the brake lines on his car are. In a little while, I'll have calmed down to plotting ways to mess up his life rather than offing him. Death is too simple. I want him to suffer for this.

Sitting at home, I am playing Quake on my RiscPC. And an idea hits me. You know when this happens in cartoons, there is a kind of 'bing!' and a lightbulb appears? Well, it was almost the same now. So simple, I don't know why I didn't use the opportunity earlier.

Two hours later I am in the college reception. In front of me are a pile of video cassettes. Each one is dated, and each one carries 24 hours of frame-freeze recording. I slip eight videos into my backpack, and replace them with eight E-30 videos. After setting the burglar alarm to set itself off in five minutes, I pay a visit to the canteen. It is fairly simple to break into the vending machine. I'm not interested in the money. But there are some things you cannot hack. And that is a 'Crunchie', right here, right now.

However it is too good an opportunity to miss, so I fill the remaining space in my backpack with all the chocolate bars I can manage. Then, just to be annoying, I break open the drink vending machine and swap the soup with the coffee.

I drop my backpack on the floor and run as fast as possible to the reception. I barely have enough time to reset the alarm trigger, but somehow I make it.

I arrive late the next day. Looking suitably smashed, everybody thinks I slept in. My hair is ruffled and my clothes are unkempt. Just the look I was aiming for. Because, well, I waded through three days of recordings until I found what I needed.

Sopowitz was hiding in his office. The blonde receptionist was running around, ripping down posters from the notice-boards. It was a shame really, I spent ages getting the photoreal colour matching correct. After all, if I'm to print out a selection of images of hanky-panky in the principal's office, I must make it look good.

I can't wait for lunchtime. There is a massive picture of the very best image possible wrapped up in the projection screen. The screen is set to unfurl on a timer.

I walk to maths. For the first time in my life, I walk to a maths lesson with a smile on my face.

What happened?
Find out in the next issue!

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Copyright © 1998 Richard Murray
Diary Copyright © 1998 Richard Murray