that I commented yesterday:

The whole school was talking about how Russel had shown up dressed in his regular uniform shirt with the skirt he'd borrowed from his recently graduated sister. They knew why he had done this, and they supported him. He was merely pointing out the double standard the school had in allowing girls to wear a reasonable lenght garment for the summer's heat while boys were stuck wearing long slacks. This was civil disobedience at its finest.

His first period teacher---a tired man who was so close to retirement he could taste it---had chosen to ignore him, but his home room teacher made a call to the administration wing, and when the announcement came over the intercom "Russel Davidson, please report to the principal's office" every student grinned, and a few applauded briefly before a glare from the teacher that asked if they would like to join their hero.

Russel actually had come prepared for this. His parents supported his protest, and he had their lawyers---a firm the very name of which inspired fear in their adversaries---on speed dial on his cell phone. But what he didn't know was that this was one of those schools chockablock with evil magic, and that troublemakers here had their whole reality rewritten.

The principal Mr. Sliveen, a large man who farted incessantly, smiled greasily as Russel entered his office. "Do have a seat, dear boy. So you like to wear skirts, do you?"

"It's not what I like to wear, it's what I DONT like to wear," said the boy, and tried to make his case.

"Believe it or not I was something of a nonconformist at your age. But I was fortunate that my parents weren't yuppie scum who could afford to enroll me at THIS school. I'm afraid whatever means you think you have at your disposal, you are quite outgunned..."

"We'll see about that," smirked Russel and reached in his pocket for his phone. But when he pulled it out it was a large, realistic and obscenely detailed pink dildo, "What the hell?! How did you do that?!"

"Magic," chortled Mr. Slitheen as Russel began to change, "The same means we're going to use to quash this protest before it even begins. By tomorrow morning no one on earth will remember that Russel Davidson ever existed..."

"But you CAN'T!" howled Russel at a much higher register than he'd intended.

"Can't we? We've done this more times than anyone could imagine. It's an old story, one my favorites, the kind with the BAD BOY TO GOOD GIRL tag..."

When all at once the BCTS STORY POLICE showed up in a puff of smoke and arrested the principal and his whole cabal of magical miscreants, charging them all with Involuntary Transformation and several counts of Attempted Identity Murder---Book 'em, Danielle!---and throwing them into a cell at the center of the earth with Osama bin Laden and fifteen horny demons all named Bubba, and Russel was okay and everything ....... THE END.

~hugs, Veronica