The air was still in the cold alpine morning, and a dark shape silently moved through the grass. The figure was so stealthy in his approach that birds still sat asleep in their trees and bushes. The silent figure carefully advanced towards a stone bunker and pulled out a silenced M9 handgun with his gloved hand. Carefully brandishing the handgun, the shadow aimed at the nearest enemy target and fired.

Two silenced shots pierced the air, and a camouflaged soldier wearing a gas mask let out a muffled yelp as he fell into the long grass. His two cohorts, also wearing gas masks, turned around and briefly glanced at where their friend had been just a few seconds ago. One of the soldiers turned to the other.

“Where did Pulaski go?” he asked in a buffoonish voice.

The other soldier shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Well, go look for him. He was behind us just a minute ago.” The first soldier pointed back where Pulaski’s body lay out of view.

“Okay.” The other soldier replied bluntly, and started walking towards the waiting figure with the silenced M9.

Two silenced shots rang out again, and the soldier fell into the grass.

The last soldier raised his MP5. “Son of a b-“

Two more silenced shots put him down.

The stealthy figure appeared and surveyed the carnage. He put a hand to his earpiece and reported, “Agent Alvin to Command. All hostiles are down at the bunker. Over.”

“Excellent work, Agent Alvin,” replied Command, “Prepare for extraction.”

Alvin waited for the extraction copter.

The lunch bells rang at an obscure Asian-dominant high school, emitting tones that would better fit as a censoring device. Jason Catolico burst out of the classroom and threw down his backpack. He sprinted wildly to the lunch line, arms flailing, and clocked 60 miles per hour as he breezed by more casual students emerging from their classrooms. At the lunch line, Jason grabbed his plate of spaghetti and poured three different sauces on it. Then, Jason paid for his lunch and sprinted back to the lunch spot with spaghetti in tow.

Lawrence let out a big whine.

“What’s the matter, Lawrence?” asked Howard with a concerned look on his face.

“I’m tired, I’m hungry, and I want to go to the bathroom!” Lawrence said.

“Then get lunch at the lunch line.” Howard said.

“I can’t, because there are too many people there!” Lawrence replied.

“Then cut.” Howard said, and took a bite out of his pizza.

“But then I would be breaking the Academic Code of Conduct!” Lawrence said.

“Gosh, Lawrence, you’re useless!” Howard replied.

“Hey!” Lawrence punched Howard in the shoulder.

“Man, what sauce did I put on this spaghetti?!” Jason grimaced, spitting out noodles and bleu cheese.

Alvin approached them, eating Chinese food.

“Hey, it’s Alvin!” Howard exclaimed.

“Hey, guys.” Alvin said matter-of-factly.

“Where were you during brunch?” asked Daniel Huang.

“Oh, um, I was at this club meeting.”

“Man, if you were here, I could have unloaded more random facts about how much I own at Call of Duty 4!” Daniel clapped his hands together into an imaginary pistol. “BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!”

“Ewww! Call of Duty 4! That game sucks!” Ryan Hansen said.

“No it doesn’t! It is the leetest pwnerage!” Daniel exclaimed.

“That’s what she said!” Hansen returned.

Daniel and Hansen started arguing over Call of Duty 4, and Jason turned to Alvin.

“Hey, Alvin, why is there mud and long grass on your shoes?” he asked.

Alvin choked on Chinese noodles and looked down.

“Oh. Um…” Alvin brushed some mud and grass off his running shoes. “I…I ran to school today and it was…raining.”

“No it wasn’t.” Howard said.

“Really?” said Alvin, “Well, it was in Russia, anyways.”

“Russia?” Howard, Jason and Lawrence exclaimed, stunned.

“Oh, I mean it was raining…in the San Mateo Russian Center for Chinese…Takeout. That’s where I bought these noodles and chopsticks.”

Awkward silence befell.

“You know, Alvin, you just gave me an idea for ‘The Epic Adventure of Alvin: Part Ten”!” Jason exclaimed.

“No!” Alvin said.

“What?” Jason replied.

“I mean, uh, there was no more chopsticks at the San Mateo Russian Center for Chinese Takeout and…Chopsticks…and I was…very angry.”

“o__o” said Jason.

Daniel, still in heated argument with Hansen, said really loudly, “Come on! Master Chief’s armor cannot withstand headshots from a Desert Eagle!” He clapped his hands into an imaginary pistol and pretended to shoot it again. “BOOM! BOOM! BOO-“

Suddenly, the cafeteria blew up in a dazzling display of explosions. Students screamed and ran for cover. Jason and Alvin both dropped their food.

“Boom?” Daniel finished in a confused voice.

“What the Falco!” Lawrence said, surprised.

Alvin stared in horror as the giant smoke cloud spread into the air.

“Oh no,” he said. “He’s here.”

“Who’s here?” asked Jason, still staring at the explosion.

Alvin turned and faced Jason, his face grim. “The marketing people from Apple. They’re here to sell me free iPods. I...HATE...SCAMS!"

DUN DUN DUN…

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