Post by RAM on May 7, 2024 22:09:09 GMT
--------
October 14, 2019 -- 4:10 PM
Picking up from where we left off...
Fifteen minutes into the detention period.
Yet the tension between high school sophomore R.A. Marshall and senior Bobby Figgins was quite palpable in the moment. Rydia Palmer, the young freshman computer geek, watched the two from her lab station while jotting down a brief outline of ideas about her short essay.
After initially asking how everyone ended up in D-hall, RAM responded.
"Ladies first."
Figgins shrugged.
"Pffft, fuuuuck...since when did YOU become an expert in chivalry?!"
"Since when did YOU become an expert in the game of handegg...?"
"Fuck you, whorebag."
Marshall pounded his fist on the desk.
"Hey, CHILL! Alright?!"
Rydia's voice echoed throughout the lab. She wanted to be the reasonable person in the room, reminding both young men of Mr. Connery and his infamous temperament. Figgigns snickered, grinning from ear to ear as he did so.
"Well, well...the nerd speaks."
Marshall chimed in.
"Why do you gotta treat this nice gal like absolute dogshit, huh? 'Cause she was glasses and looks like the type of person who's got a God-given intellect...?"
Figgins shot back with a retort of his own.
"Why do you like dumpin' on ME, huh?! Can't run the 40 in under five flat? Can't throw a ball more than 60 yards downfield?!"
Rydia spoke up as well, looking at the older jock directly in the eye.
"If we're gonna go by your logic, Figgins? Why do you like piling on a guy like him, huh? Is it because he chooses not to be like you...or me...but be himself?"
Bobby scoffed.
"He's a chicken-shit, Palmer. A low-life, scumbag coward with no sense of moral conscience. He'd probably end up in jail just like his precious mommy..."
Marshall shot up out of his chair and towards Figgins, aiming to beat the ever-loving shit out of the football player. Rydia immediately got up and stood between the two boys, playing peacemaker.
"Don't--"
"Just let me fuckin' go--!"
"It's not worth it, okay?"
Marshall growled a bit before settling back in his chair. Rydia nodded warmly and attempted to defuse the situation in the only way she could.
"Seriously...what do you want to be in your life...?"
Figgins pounded his terminal desk.
"Oh, why can't this slut ever shut her yap...?!"
"Hey, she's askin' a goddamn serious question!"
CLANG! The rapping of a yard stick against the top of the teacher's desk signaled Mr. Connery's arrival. On this day, he sported a black business suit with distinctive green tie as he paced around the room, gazing at the monitors the three students were using.
"Hrmmm...good idea by doing an outline, but you're wasting time there, Miss Palmer. Ahh, Mr. Marshall...I didn't know you were an eoquent writer."
Connery then approached Figgins' computer, and he eventually saw that the quarterback had nothing jotted down on his Word document as of yet.
"Better not be slacking off, Mr. Figgins!"
Carrying a can of Pepsi in his right hand, Mr. Connery made his exit. Figgins, after contemplating for a few minutes, spoke with a sigh in his voice.
"If you really must know...I'm tryin' really hard to blow my dad's career out of the water. He...he got banned from the NFL for betting on his own team."
Marshall raised his brows.
"You dad was Lonnie Figgins, right? The guy who got banned for steroid use?!"
"Yeah, so?! What's it to you, vermin?"
Rydia shook her head, resigned to the fact that she was stuck with those two boys for the rest of the hour. Marshall, to everyone's shock, decided to leave well enough alone. The vibrant computer nerd chuckled slightly and batted her eyelashes.
"I just want to put my mind to work, develop a piece of computer software than can help doctors find a cure for breast cancer."
Marshall took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
"I dunno...I dunno if I wanna be an asshole with a chiop on his shoulder. Or...if I wanna be some hotshot developer who makes the localization team of Square Enix's next Final Fantasy game..."
Figgins chimed in.
"...you can be both..."
Rydia piled on.
"He's just saying, of course."
Marshall nodded, perhaps accepting the challenge from his fellow detention mates. Rydia reached into her handbag and pulled out an external hard drive, hooking it up to her computer's USB port.
"Are you familiar with Javascript?"
"Not really. My aunt showed me some code, but I was too young and scared to understand a single bit."
Another pause as Rydia pulled her some coding files from her storage device.
"If you don't mind me asking...?"
"My aunt works as a developer for an indie game studio. She had a hand in makin' Galaxy's Edge, a sci-fi turn-based RPG. Not exactly the greatest Final Fantasy knock-off in the world..."
She smiled.
"It's one of my favorite games. I especially loved the music..."
Robert smiled back at her, comforted in knowing that his aunt's work is appreciated, if only by a small minority of gamers out there.
"Anyways, did you know that Watauga High School uses McAfee as its official anti-virus provider?"
"Yeah, I see that logo all the time when I'm tryin' to download an emulator."
Marshall's voice trailed off, pondering what happened next.
"I was creating a worm cluster to test McAfee's defensive capabilities, praying that it would be caught and wiped before Ms. LaForge came in and busted me."
The sophomore's eyes widened in shock.
"You're a hacker...?!"
"In technical terms...yeah."
Figgins got a perverse chuckle out of the revelation.
"Anyway, I...I added a couple extra zeros into the code, and the whole thing went sideways. District officials said it's gonna take them a month to rebuild their entire database. Grades, Social Security numbers, even lunch menus...all wiped within a space of a thirty seconds."
Marshall looked bewildered.
"Whoa...lemme get this straight, you didn't just crash the school's mainframe. You wrecked the entire fuckin' district to boot?!"
Figgins laughed out loud.
"Smooth move, Ex-Lax...really smooth move!"
He then paused and cleared his throat, reminding himself that Mr. Connery might not be far away.
"How'd YOU end up in dtention, bagel butt?!"
"Pffft, ladies first...bitch."
Rydia facepalmed, knowing that the antagonism between Marshall and Figgins wasn't going away anytime soon.
"Heh...YOU first, spanky."
To be continued...
--------
October 14, 2019 -- 4:10 PM
Picking up from where we left off...
Fifteen minutes into the detention period.
Yet the tension between high school sophomore R.A. Marshall and senior Bobby Figgins was quite palpable in the moment. Rydia Palmer, the young freshman computer geek, watched the two from her lab station while jotting down a brief outline of ideas about her short essay.
After initially asking how everyone ended up in D-hall, RAM responded.
"Ladies first."
Figgins shrugged.
"Pffft, fuuuuck...since when did YOU become an expert in chivalry?!"
"Since when did YOU become an expert in the game of handegg...?"
"Fuck you, whorebag."
Marshall pounded his fist on the desk.
"Hey, CHILL! Alright?!"
Rydia's voice echoed throughout the lab. She wanted to be the reasonable person in the room, reminding both young men of Mr. Connery and his infamous temperament. Figgigns snickered, grinning from ear to ear as he did so.
"Well, well...the nerd speaks."
Marshall chimed in.
"Why do you gotta treat this nice gal like absolute dogshit, huh? 'Cause she was glasses and looks like the type of person who's got a God-given intellect...?"
Figgins shot back with a retort of his own.
"Why do you like dumpin' on ME, huh?! Can't run the 40 in under five flat? Can't throw a ball more than 60 yards downfield?!"
Rydia spoke up as well, looking at the older jock directly in the eye.
"If we're gonna go by your logic, Figgins? Why do you like piling on a guy like him, huh? Is it because he chooses not to be like you...or me...but be himself?"
Bobby scoffed.
"He's a chicken-shit, Palmer. A low-life, scumbag coward with no sense of moral conscience. He'd probably end up in jail just like his precious mommy..."
Marshall shot up out of his chair and towards Figgins, aiming to beat the ever-loving shit out of the football player. Rydia immediately got up and stood between the two boys, playing peacemaker.
"Don't--"
"Just let me fuckin' go--!"
"It's not worth it, okay?"
Marshall growled a bit before settling back in his chair. Rydia nodded warmly and attempted to defuse the situation in the only way she could.
"Seriously...what do you want to be in your life...?"
Figgins pounded his terminal desk.
"Oh, why can't this slut ever shut her yap...?!"
"Hey, she's askin' a goddamn serious question!"
CLANG! The rapping of a yard stick against the top of the teacher's desk signaled Mr. Connery's arrival. On this day, he sported a black business suit with distinctive green tie as he paced around the room, gazing at the monitors the three students were using.
"Hrmmm...good idea by doing an outline, but you're wasting time there, Miss Palmer. Ahh, Mr. Marshall...I didn't know you were an eoquent writer."
Connery then approached Figgins' computer, and he eventually saw that the quarterback had nothing jotted down on his Word document as of yet.
"Better not be slacking off, Mr. Figgins!"
Carrying a can of Pepsi in his right hand, Mr. Connery made his exit. Figgins, after contemplating for a few minutes, spoke with a sigh in his voice.
"If you really must know...I'm tryin' really hard to blow my dad's career out of the water. He...he got banned from the NFL for betting on his own team."
Marshall raised his brows.
"You dad was Lonnie Figgins, right? The guy who got banned for steroid use?!"
"Yeah, so?! What's it to you, vermin?"
Rydia shook her head, resigned to the fact that she was stuck with those two boys for the rest of the hour. Marshall, to everyone's shock, decided to leave well enough alone. The vibrant computer nerd chuckled slightly and batted her eyelashes.
"I just want to put my mind to work, develop a piece of computer software than can help doctors find a cure for breast cancer."
Marshall took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
"I dunno...I dunno if I wanna be an asshole with a chiop on his shoulder. Or...if I wanna be some hotshot developer who makes the localization team of Square Enix's next Final Fantasy game..."
Figgins chimed in.
"...you can be both..."
Rydia piled on.
"He's just saying, of course."
Marshall nodded, perhaps accepting the challenge from his fellow detention mates. Rydia reached into her handbag and pulled out an external hard drive, hooking it up to her computer's USB port.
"Are you familiar with Javascript?"
"Not really. My aunt showed me some code, but I was too young and scared to understand a single bit."
Another pause as Rydia pulled her some coding files from her storage device.
"If you don't mind me asking...?"
"My aunt works as a developer for an indie game studio. She had a hand in makin' Galaxy's Edge, a sci-fi turn-based RPG. Not exactly the greatest Final Fantasy knock-off in the world..."
She smiled.
"It's one of my favorite games. I especially loved the music..."
Robert smiled back at her, comforted in knowing that his aunt's work is appreciated, if only by a small minority of gamers out there.
"Anyways, did you know that Watauga High School uses McAfee as its official anti-virus provider?"
"Yeah, I see that logo all the time when I'm tryin' to download an emulator."
Marshall's voice trailed off, pondering what happened next.
"I was creating a worm cluster to test McAfee's defensive capabilities, praying that it would be caught and wiped before Ms. LaForge came in and busted me."
The sophomore's eyes widened in shock.
"You're a hacker...?!"
"In technical terms...yeah."
Figgins got a perverse chuckle out of the revelation.
"Anyway, I...I added a couple extra zeros into the code, and the whole thing went sideways. District officials said it's gonna take them a month to rebuild their entire database. Grades, Social Security numbers, even lunch menus...all wiped within a space of a thirty seconds."
Marshall looked bewildered.
"Whoa...lemme get this straight, you didn't just crash the school's mainframe. You wrecked the entire fuckin' district to boot?!"
Figgins laughed out loud.
"Smooth move, Ex-Lax...really smooth move!"
He then paused and cleared his throat, reminding himself that Mr. Connery might not be far away.
"How'd YOU end up in dtention, bagel butt?!"
"Pffft, ladies first...bitch."
Rydia facepalmed, knowing that the antagonism between Marshall and Figgins wasn't going away anytime soon.
"Heh...YOU first, spanky."
To be continued...
--------
Well howdy there pardner.