PROM WEEKEND

Everyone have a fun weekend. We got prom, should be a little ridiculous, and AP tests start up shortly after. Hope all Friday nights went well and we leave you with this for the weekend:

Quote of the Day

“I hope he arouses the fire that’s dormant in the innermost recesses of my soul. I plan to face him with the zeal of a challenger.”

-Valedictorian Michael Hinojosa, addressing the rumors of a last-minute transfer student with a 98.6 GPA, taking a page out of Ichiro Suzuki's book.

Hillcrest High School Throws A Curveball

In searching for a more efficient way to schedule classes, the administration at our fine institution has decided to adopt the unorthodox plan of having a 47 classes a day. Switching from seven 55 minute classes to 47 8 minute classes is believed to maximize a student's learning diversity.

The change comes under new Headmaster Ronald Jones, who will be taking over for Mr. Albus Shelton next fall.

"This is for the best. Now a student may take six different English classes, nine different math classes, as well as 23 different types of foreign languages," said Jones. "Are you going to tell me that that is not amazing?"

Many see a problem with this scheme, and doubt it will work. The fact that the classes are eight minutes long serves as one potential road block.

"What the [expletive] [expletive] am I supposed to teach in eight [expletive] minutes?" said math teacher Mrs. Alverson. "That's barely enough time for Blake Atwell to pass up his homework!"

"Wait," said Atwell with a look of horror on his face, "that's not enough time for me to do my homework during class!"

As I stated before, the changing of the guard of Hillcrest High School is underway. Interim Headmaster Shelton will be taking his abilities somewhere else, and our school will be graced with the likes of Ronald Jones. Jones is believed to come from Benjamin Franklin Middle School. Are we really supposed to believe this? The Cyclone will dig deep into the past.

We are truth. We will uncover not only the magical abilities of Mr. Jones, but his intentions for our school as well.

TGIF

MIA

Our faults today for not giving you the groundbreaking news you all deserve. Cyclone staff has been in an unbreakable sleep thanks to Dr. McGaffey's AP review session earlier today.

Surprises come tomorrow.

You have 10 hours.

Developing Story: Swine Flu Is Officially Mean-Spirited

While several believed him dead, our old pal and resident criminal mastermind Swine Flu is on the loose again, causing Joker-level chaos. UIL has recently announced it is suspending Texas high school sports until May 11.

Excuse me while I bash my head into a wall and burst into tears.


Pictured above: That [expletive] Swine Flu, even more nefarious than we first imagined.

How Swine Flu is carrying out this crime spree is somewhat of a mystery, since as we all know our very own Erik "Boom-Boom" Severson killed the supervillain. Possibly Swine Flu faked his own death; possibly he, like the Joker in Batman comics, never dies for some strange reason. Unless Tamiflu is involved.

"As an analytic therapist, what I saw with Mr. Flu was that most of his anger towards high school sports probably came from the fact that he could never climb the rope in gym class," said Severson.

As we all know, this only delays the baseball team's inevitable destruction of all foes. But it's still annoying. Here's hoping AP tests don't get cancelled/postponed, because then everyone will weep.

But seriously, folks, take caution with swine flu and review steps you can take to help keep yourself and others safe. I'm going to go cry now.

From Erik: If you enjoy Swine Flu, geography, and tracing epidemics, this is for you.

The Cyclone Introduces Swine Flu to Hillcrest

Recently, The Cyclone got to sit down with one of the more popular celebrities of the past couple days. I'm of course talking about the infamous Swine Flu. In The Cyclone's exclusive interview with the misunderstood disease, Mr. S. Flu tells us the tale of how he has been portrayed in the wrong light, and how he's trying to make amends with our people. The interview we scheduled ended up in a sad (or possibly happy) ending for the people of the world.

Of course before reading this you must know that when you become a member of The Cyclone, you automatically become immune to all diseases. Except for scurvy.

Here is how the interview went:

Erik: So Mr. Swine Flu, how did this all begin?
Swine Flu: Bad judgement on my part. One person led to another, and soon I'm becoming a worldwide occurrence. You could say I've built up most of the anger in my life from a iffy relationship with mom and pop. See, my mother was the flu and my father was an actual pig, so when my father mutated my mother, and in turn, my mother killed my father, things around the house became a little rough.

E: But why us?
SF: You know, I can't really answer that question. I have an incurable desire to party, and you know, I just go where the wind takes me. Spring Break in Mexico got a little out of control, and I ended up making a few decisions I now regret, and somehow I ended up in the US.

E: Recently, the Secretary of the Department Homeland Security declared a public health emergency in the United States. Aren't you panicking that the feds might be on your tail?
SF: You know, part of me wants to get caught. I'm sick (no pun intended) of hurting people. What nobody knows is I'm a nice fellow. I just am made of viruses that can kill you. Ain't no thang.

Swine Flu pictured above, wearing Indiana Jones costume

E: What are your plans for North Texas?
SF: That's a great question. I'm currently looking for an apartment on the street Wedd Chappel but I can't seem to find where that might be. Who knows, I probably won't even stay in the US much longer. I'm not sure that I like it here.

E: How can you look yourself in the mirror?
At this stage in our conversation, Mr. Flu began to get very emotional. He began letting out viral sobs.
SF: You know what, I don't need this Hillcrest Cyclone. You don't know me! You don't know the pressure I'm under! I [expletive] hate this [expletive] and can't do this anymore!

Swine Flu then stormed out of the room, leaving nothing but a trail of nothing. But I was not through with him; I would get the story I needed wanted.

I followed Mr. Flu to a dark, dark corridor inside of a dark, dark building. He was troublesome to follow because he is practically invisible when not wearing his formal suit. It was then that I saw one of the most horrid events these eyes have ever seen. The bathtub was filled with water. And bang. Right then and there, Swine Flu killed himself. Did the celebrity status rush to his head? Did his spotty past catch up with him? Was I responsible?

The answers are no, no, yes. I killed Swine Flu, technically, and I will take full credit for saving not only our school, but the world as well. You're welcome world. Hillcrest Hurricane editor-in-chief Jenny Davenport has agreed to build The Cyclone a gigantic bronze statue in order to celebrate the event.

But in all seriousness, Swine Flu could have friends so:

--Cover your nose and mouth with a tissue when you cough or sneeze. Throw the tissue in the trash after you use it.

--Wash your hands often with soap and water, especially after you cough or sneeze. Alcohol-based hands cleaners are also effective.

--Avoid touching your eyes, nose or mouth. Germs spread that way.

--And whatever you do, do not come in contact with Voldemort or Mohammed Talib. (No word yet on whether swine flue affects werewolves.)

Man... Wolf... HUMAN.

A cafe, east Dallas. A nondescript place with weird modern furniture, oddly orange lighting, and size classifications in three different languages. The fare is typical: mocha frappuccino, vanilla bean frappuccino, croissant, mocha lite frappuccino, Paul McCartney album, rainbow essence of dried soul frappuccino.

But something about the scene is atypical.

"I've never done this before," says the man - nay, boy - across from me, idly moving his cup from hand to hand. "I've never told anyone about my... condition."

"It's okay," I say, and I smile. "Just talk to me. About anything."

He looks up, but he's not looking at me. Then he sighs, sets down the cup.

"All right."

----

Above all, this is a story about random chance.

"I guess you could say everything started with a walk in the park," he says, and then stops. "Wait a minute, this is anonymous, right?"

"Yes," I reply.

"Kay. Just... give me a nickname. Something cool and nonsexual. Like... Deep Throat!"

"Taken."

"Aw damn. Never mind, just call me Moony."

"Taken by a fictional character."

My source scowls. "Then call me... the Wolf."

I shrug and click my pen. He never claimed to be original.

"I guess you could say it started with a walk in the park. I was just a kid, about eight years old, when I was bitten. It happened one night near White Rock. I was just walking along, minding my own business at 4 A.M., not dealing crack or anything like that, when all of a sudden this big monster pops out at me. A wolf." The Wolf sighs, steadies himself. "Really hairy, bad breath. He was probably a Bryan Adams graduate. Anyway, he attacks me, and he bites me. Right on the neck."

He shows me the wound. It's pretty nasty.

"Why didn't he kill you?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "Didn't make for a good story, I guess. Beats me."

Four weeks later, the Wolf began getting stomach cramps. Like anyone, he assumed that the cramps were from eating three Chipotle burritos in one night. But it wasn't so, at least not on this occasion.

Two nights later he had his first transformation.

"It was... horrible. I remember the full moon. The hair bursting out of my arms. My canine teeth expanding, my nose becoming a snout. Luckily I was locked inside a basement... um, not due to a drug deal gone bad or anything... but anyway, I was locked in a basement and couldn't do any harm. There was some [expletive] in the next house over playing 'Thriller' on repeat, though, and I really didn't appreciate that. It was pretty offensive and hurtful."


But the transformations kept coming. Sometimes the Wolf couldn't control himself. Sometimes he wasn't locked in a basement because of a drug deal gone bad, and on those occasions, things got nasty. Murder, destruction, bloodlust. All applied. Some nights he'd return home and realize he'd killed 18 people. Some nights he'd return home and realize he'd wasted money on a Rangers ticket. His crimes sickened him.

[Editor's note: You might want to cut this part out. This is a fluff piece: we don't want to include any negative information in here about our source. Think of it as "objective creative license." Keep up the good work, kid.]

But the transformations kept coming. For six long years, the Wolf thought he was alone. But then he entered Hillcrest, and his perception changed.

"You should know," he says, "that there are werewolves at Hillcrest."

The Wolf refused to name names, but a preliminary investigation pulled up several suspects.

"There were several patterns I noticed," said mathmetician/nerd Mattia Flabiano. "I studied moon charts and student/faculty absences, and determined several possible lycans."

First on the list: comm app teacher Mr. Hennig, who is conspicuously absent on every full moon and makes his students watch random movies during his absences, leaving an oblivious sub to wonder aloud every day "what this movie is about," and no one in the class answering his question.

"I am certainly not involved in any of this wacky old foolishness y'all are bringing up," said Mr. Hennig when asked for comment.

Seems inconspicuous, but look at his comment more closely:

"I am certainly not involved in any of this wearisome wacky old foolishness y'all are bringing up."

His secret message: "I am certainly a werewolf."

It is obvious that Mr. Hennig is trying to reach out to us, as many lycans are. But it's not easy.

Just look at Edgar Arroyo. Flabiano has determined from absence sheets that Arroyo could also be a werewolf, but Arroyo fervently denies any claims, probably afraid of ostracization.

"No," he said, "I just don't go to class."

It has been speculated that Cyclone member Kevin Latta could be a lycan judging by his numerous soccer absences, but the Cyclone has no comment at this time on the matter.

And there is reason to be afraid. Lycans are a controversial topic, and the official school newspaper, The Hurricane, has been banned from writing about the issue, among other things.

"Werewolves are evil," said National Rifle Association member Gantt Lairsey. "That's why I keep two rifles on me at all times, one with normal bullets and one with silver bullets. With the first one I shoot deer and the second one I shoot werewolves."

In addition, there has been conflict between the lycan faction and the vampire faction at Hillcrest, led by Mr. Baldridge. Officials are worried that the Scots, led by Mr. Wright, could join in the action.

"Scots burn people and put stakes through people's hearts," said Mr. Baldridge, baring his teeth. "They're crazy."

------

But this isn't just about a story. This is about a person.

"There's not many good role models out there," the Wolf sighs. "Remus Lupin, maybe, but he was killed off without even a proper goodbye. American Werewolf in London? Yeah right! So discriminatory. And I don't care, Michael J. Fox is NOT a real werewolf. But whatever."

The Wolf throws his coffee cup away, turns at me, and offers a weak smile.

"That's all there is to say, I guess," he states. "I hope I cleared some things up for you."

I assure him that he did.

"Good."

He puts his hood over his head and waves, disappearing out the door without a goodbye. I should've expected that.

But he didn't need a goodbye. I realize, as I'm getting in my car to leave and a raindrop hits the windshield, that we all look up at the same full moon at night. Some of us are dreaming. Some of us are killing people and biting their jugulars. But we're all the same.

The thought makes me smile.

AP Tests Got You Down?

Click me. A lot.

Because the rest of this week is going to be glum and wet. Plus the fact TAKS makes us all want to dive into a pool of bricks.

Hillcrest Cyclone 1st Annual FUN-raiser (lulz)

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to another week load of spine-melting news coverage.


Now let's begin. Although The Cyclone grosses over $450,000 daily, we would love to entertain your support of our "news source." In the upcoming Hillcrest Hurricane (our "official" school newspaper), The Cyclone would love to to place an advertisement. This is totally up to our readership, but let's make this something more than a cult-following. The advertisement costs $90 and you can contact us at hillcrest.cyclone@gmail.com or in P-5 during all of 4th period. Pitch in for a good laugh. If you want to.


<3
Happy Monday.

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