Expedition Unknown: 11th Floor

For months, we at The Spectator have heard elusive rumors about the mythical 11th floor. Some tell us it is equal to a paradise created by the gods, filled with every amenity you would need at this school plus a pool with bubbles. Others say that it is Principal Yu’s private purgatory, where the most dark and depraved students of Stuy are sent when they do a bit too much trolling and tomfoolery. But what is this “11th floor,” really? We aim to find out. Through new, groundbreaking research conducted by the Humor department, as well as an expedition into the unknown, our brave interns adventurers Alex Chu and Vincent D’Angelo hope to discover what truly lies on the 11th floor.

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As the final bell rings, signifying the end of the school day, our adventurers brave the first of many challenges on their journey: exercise.

Alex: Bro, I've got to do more cardio. I’ve really got to climb more stairs instead of taking the escalator all the time.

Vincent: Yeah, I feel you. Here’s a tip: just listen to escalator sounds to trick your mind into thinking you’re on the escalator. That’s what’s playing in my AirPods right now. Here, take my left AirPod. Sometimes I get too immersed and stop moving, waiting for the stairs to move me higher up, and the people behind me get annoyed that I stopped randomly. I might be late to class sometimes, but I consider that a necessary drawback.

They wait for the remaining clattering of student sneaker soles on linoleum to fade. As our intelligent adventurers reach their destination, they realize that the door to the 11th floor is locked.

Vincent: Darn it! It sucks that our journey has to end so quickly! Maybe we have to wait till Disrespectator to unlock this door!

Alex: Let us not be in such haste to end our barely-started adventure. There’s a gap under the bars. You think you can reach under there?

Vincent: Hmm, I have been eating less Whole Foods lately so my arm might fit. Let’s see… Oh! I think I got it!

The door swings open with a creek. With no teachers or students in sight, our dependable adventurers press onward, making sure to close the door behind them.

A cloud of unexplainable fog engulfs our nervous adventurers.

Alex: I hate when novels use fog as a transition to convey the supernatural and inexplicable elements of the new area they are about to enter. Don’t you, Vincent?

Vincent: Why yes, I do hate that. It’s a really uncreative idea that was funny last in “Harry Potter: The Goblet of Fire,” by J.K Rowling. Honestly, it’s lazy writing.

As the fog dissipates, our unpaid adventurers appear in a hazy land in what looks like a heavily distorted sixth-floor gym. Ripped school bags cover the ground, with grime and other signs of abandonment all over. Disfigured bulletin boards and posters with unknown symbols cover the walls. A yellowed paper, dated February 1940, advertises Spectator Humor. A miasma of uncleanliness fills the air.

Vincent: Well, this sure doesn’t look like a paradise.

Alex: That’s a good line. I might use it later.

A bestial roar is heard in the far distance, the kind of sound that shakes you to your very core. It’s not a great vibe.

Alex: I guess we should start exploring, right? For the science and all that jazz?

Vincent: And away from that noise. That would be wise.

Our best adventurers continue onward, pushing into the fog to find a hallway resembling the fifth floor. Torn pages litter the linoleum. More bulletin boards and posters seem to be scratched over with unknown symbols. Hoof-like impressions, along with the dirty tracks of an Adidas Stan Smith, are visible on the ground.

Alex: Is this like a mirrored version of our school? It’s like an exact replica: same hallways and everything, down to the mural.

Vincent: Wait, so just like Valorant?*

Alex: Bro…ain’t no way you just said that. BFFR right now.

Vincent: Sorry.

*Vincent has not played a game of Valorant and has no intention to do so. These words were NOT written with his consent.

The faint smell of an unwashed farm animal looms over the horizon. The sound of heavy footsteps emanates from the cafeteria, only getting louder and louder in proximity to our poor adventurers. The overhead lights flicker with every step. They turn, and what they see truly frightens them. The beast, a bizarre amalgamation of Pete Pegleg and a ram—with the distinctive Pete Pegleg body, but with horns and his signature pegleg replaced with a ram leg—sprints aimlessly. It seemingly has no regard for itself or its surroundings.

Alex: Well, Pete’s had a rough few years.

Realizing the perilous situation they are in, the two adventurers scurry down the hallway and sprint down this world’s version of the five-to-three escalator. The sound of hooves pounding against the ceiling moves farther and farther away.

Vincent: Damn. I haven’t run that fast since the proctor dismissed us from the PSAT room.

Alex: MAYBE you should get some more exercise. We can run up stairs together.

Desks lay haphazardly in the hallways. The iconic vending machine lies looted on its side. Trash lays strewn across the ground, and in some areas, murky brown water rises to the adventurer’s ankles.

Alex: And we thought the Sophomore Bar was unkempt.

Someone’s muttering drifts from a bench in the Junior atrium. Our adventurers whip around and see a lone boy sitting there. Moving closer to investigate, they see that the boy is wearing a Stuyvesant shirt and shorts. He rocks back and forth in the fetal position.

Boy: It was just one test. I promise I won’t do it again. It was just one test…

Vincent: Oh, failed your first test, did ya bucko? Tough scene, but don’t fret. I failed my first twelve tests before I got a C, and that was because—

Boy: I WASN’T EVEN LOOKING AT HIS PAPER! I DIDN’T CHEAT! DAMN YOU! I SWEAR I DIDN’T CHEAT!

Our adventurers slowly back away from the boy.

Alex: Well, thank God I never cheat on my tests.

A “badum, tis” on a drum set is heard vaguely off in the distance.

Another louder roar is heard by the third floor boys’ bathroom. It sounds like hooves, and it’s coming for YOU.

By this point, the weariness is beginning to set in. Our fatigued adventurers look down the hallway to see Pete Pegleg charging toward them. The distraught boy quickly gathers himself and flees the scene. He has clearly done this before.

Alex: Yep, time to go. Move!

Our debilitated adventurers run down the hall to the elevator, frantically slamming the buttons. Pete Pegleg charges closer and closer…

*DING!*

The elevator doors finally open. The adventurers rush inside, slamming the close button. It feels like forever before the doors finally begin to come together. Pete Pegleg manages to fit one mangled arm between the doors, but it is too late; the doors slice off his arm, which falls to the floor as our disturbed adventurers catch their breath.

Alex: Well, what do we do with THAT?

He points at Pete’s arm, still twitching on the metal floor.

Vincent: Maybe we can frame it. Do you think they’d let us put it in one of those glass tiles in the wall?

The metal walls around them shake violently, making our poor adventurers fear for their lives one last time. As the rumbling stops, the severed arm starts to fade away into dust. Our relieved adventurers begin to reflect on what they have just experienced.

Alex: Well, that certainly was no paradise.

Vincent: Oh, you!

*DING!* The door opens, and Mr. Moran is standing there, waiting to get on the elevator.

Mr. Moran: Do you guys have your elevator pass?