Administration Introduces New Ban on Iconic Stuyvesant Lingo

“How did you do on that test? There better be a curve.” “I’m so tired! I got like two hours of sleep last night studying for this APUSH test; I feel dead.” “I think I copped a 50.”

The constant barrage of complaints in the hallways has led the administration to enact a school-wide ban on certain conversations. These include:

• Any discussion of grades, tests, colleges, or impending deadlines
• Complaints about homework or projects
• Complaints regarding sleep
• The word “coffee”

Following the ban, an eerie silence has descended upon Stuyvesant. On multiple occasions, students have opened their mouths to comment, only to promptly shut them again. Friends that once considered themselves inseparable have stopped talking altogether.

Teachers were overjoyed by the administration’s decision. Chemistry teacher Gabriel Ting said, “My inbox is, for the first time in years, completely empty! No more demands about every infinitesimal grade calculation! No more questions about the numerical equivalent of a B+, and whether that can be curved to a 97!”

An anonymous teacher commented, “I haven’t talked to my colleagues in a while since I no longer complain about my annoying and needy kids.”

The ban looks to clamp down especially hard on whiny overachievers. Students with 95-plus averages face crueler punishments for claiming to be “unprepared” or “so screwed” for tests that they will definitely get at least a 95 on. Such punishments include changing their grade to an actual failing grade.

One anonymous overachieving student claimed, “Just because I’ve been preparing for this physics test rigorously for the past two weeks doesn’t mean I can’t act concerned when test day rolls around! I need to project my superiority complex onto others somehow!”

The ban was effective for three entire days, until Thursday rolled around, and students could no longer refrain from commenting on the injustice of the latest pre-calc test. With an absolute disregard for the ban, juniors huddled in the fourth floor bathrooms desperately moaning about how question 13 was never talked about in class.

Unfortunately, Stuyvesant’s security team discovered them after forcing 23 students off the benches. The juniors were forced to sacrifice a week of lunch periods, excluded from the library, and forced to socialize rather than be productive as they watched their teachers assign project after project over the weekend.

However, recent subversions have rendered the ban unworkable. Much of the school has learned Morse code, using it to communicate with pen clicks during class—annoying teachers to the brink of insanity. The foreign language department has developed a brand new language: Eway Atehay Choolsay. The administration is considering a revamp of the ban by instructing teachers to write letters of recommendation in Morse code or Eway Atehay Choolsay.