Be quiet!
No, quieter.
No, dead silent.
Can you hear that?

That’s the sound of goblins working in the mines beneath our very shoes. If you ignore the hectic noise of life at LHS, you can hear the creatures sing whimsical goblin hymns as they tinker indiventibulously, clanking their pickaxes and toiling away. Most teachers will pretend they don’t know about this, but there are trillions of goblometers of ancient labyrinth under the school harboring critters and curios once thought to be myth. They can only be accessed once every 1000 years during the vernal equinox via a secret entrance somewhere at LHS. These cavernous mines are said to hold troves of ancient knowledge and possibly even the third Karnstedt.

First, you may be wondering who we (Teddy, Charles and Jack) are. We’re thinkers, muckrakers, innovators, idealists. Above all, we want to use our childlike sense of play to restore school spirit to LHS. According to RapTV, this year’s school spirit is the lowest it’s been since Marlon Brando was expelled for riding his motorcycle through the halls. Our goal is to investigate the impact of dwindling school spirit by exploring beneath the school. With our guide, Building and Grounds Supervisor Mr. Chris Stancil (likely an alias to protect his identity), we lurked to the secret entrance, located next to the [REDACTED].
Without hesitation, we said the secret password in unison, “Humpty duddly doo!” This password is fabled to be created by Theodore Brahams Koulentes the Brave, first of his name and the founder of LHS.

The doors opened, creaking from centuries of abandonment. We were greeted by a sparkly gemstone with a Hamlindigo blue hue that was impossible to look away from. It whispered sweet incantations in our ears, beckoning us to caress its radiant, glossy surface. To test the waters, we sent in Teddy’s doppelganger, Matthew Earley. Fortunately, he was blown to smithereens by a trap, leaving us unharmed.

“Whelp, that just happened!” said Jack. “…Onward!”

Deeper into the caverns we encountered an immense cottage-core mushroom village complete with gnomes and slushy slime. The village was dark and gloomy, and gnomes were sauntering about, joylessly lugging their pickaxes alongside them.

“Eureka!” exclaimed Charles. “This is exactly what Mr. O’Neill’s ancient legend foretold!”
He was, of course, referring to the prophecy that bound the fate of the entire gerlobe (Underground-speak for “globe”) to the spirit of the school found many goblometers above.

Despite the depressing aesthetic, we found many similarities between life underground to life at LHS. The gnomes studied trigoblometry on gnomebooks, everyone was excited for Buff Chick day, and we encountered a shadow wizard known as Merlin Brando, who’s infamous for riding his steed through the halls of gnome schools.

“Uhh, guys..? Run!” screamed Teddy, as Merlin chased us out of the village.
As we descended closer to the Earth’s crust, the thought of crust made our stomachs glumble (Underground-speak for “grumble”) and we scavenged for food. We passed various oddities, including a big amount of rejected fax machines, a Tiktok Live content factory, mountains of Spanish III papeles (Spanish-speak for “papers”) and an “Evil Starbucks” with even lazier employees. At the end of the infinitely expanding path remained the brutalist goblin barracks. Much like the teachers, these goblins lack homes of their own. They live in the school, and obtain water, electricity, and WiFi directly from the power of school spirit.

At long last, we made it to the source of energy in the Underground realm, a complex system of magic crystals that reflect the spirit of humans above. Without positive vibes at LHS, the gerlobe will glumble, breaking into plague and war. Without the goblins, the gears cannot turn in the world above, the lights will go out and the teachers will be forced into less exhilarating jobs. We’ve learned through our findings that LHS students need more spirit. This means attending JV math team meets, participating in spirit days, and sitting down at half time out of respect for the Marching Wildcats. If for just one day we stopped all of the fighting and joined hands together as one wildcat, we might just be able to keep underground culture alive, and restore harmony between the realms.

As Ellen once said, “Be kind to one another, or the goblins will siege.”

Public sentiments regarding the LHS basement:

Max Grambo: “Erm… what?”

Ben Troester: “Oh, I don’t really care”

Luis Correa Sr.: “I think that’s where the government keeps the flying monkeys!