Jupiter Gets Stupider

Mere hours after the announcement that Stuyvesant would be using Jupiter Ed this year, complaints began filling up Principal Yu’s inbox. After numerous objections regarding Jupiter’s ugly color schemes, we thought things couldn’t get worse—but that was before Jupiter decided to have a little Halloween fun.

On his way to his math class, sophomore Jack Simpleton pulled out his phone and loaded Jupiter for his daily grade check. His breathing sped up as he spotted one of the newly added grades. His latest AP Chem test, the one he knew he had failed, had just been returned. Panicking internally, he closed his eyes and clicked it. Slowly, he opened one eye, and he felt as though his heart stopped beating. His phone displayed a pristine 100 percent.

At that exact moment, sophomore Cleve Ern, Simpleton’s worst enemy, was walking with his friends. One of them pulled up Jupiter and gasped, “Oh, Cleve, the test grades are up! I bet you got a perfect score again…” Ern smirked confidently. As all his friends gathered around him, he pulled up Jupiter. He felt the color leave his face.

It was as if a miracle had occurred! Simpleton, who normally struggled to pass chemistry tests, had gotten a perfect score, while Ern, widely acknowledged as the smartest kid in the class, had gotten a 55. That day, Simpleton went home with a new spring in his step. Witnesses noted that it seemed as if “he was flying, rather than walking” and that the look on his face seemed “saintly.” Meanwhile, Ern ran to his guidance counselor’s office and has not yet emerged.

It turns out that this was not a one-time problem. Students all over the school were receiving unusual grades, and it wasn’t long before they realized who the culprit was: Jupiter itself. In order to join in on the holiday festivities, it had decided to play a few tricks on the kids.

But false grades weren’t the end of it. The next day, students started receiving dismayed texts from their parents. “My mom sent me an agitated message asking me why I had been suspended for two weeks,” explained junior Bee Haven. “I freaked out, of course. I’ve never done anything even remotely against the rules, so I couldn’t imagine why she’d been told that!” At least 900 parents received fake disciplinary notices. Guidance counselors were swamped by e-mails demanding explanations.

Haven tried logging into Jupiter to find the disciplinary notice her parents were seeing, but when she entered her password, her phone went completely black. After a moment, a grotesquely smiling clown face burst onto her screen, and a noise louder than the fire alarm exploded out of the speakers. “It was awful,” Haven wailed. “I was in AP Calc when it happened. My teacher was furious.” This loud noise quickly became common in the halls of Stuyvesant. Whenever students tried to check their grades, Jupiter would either give them a jumpscare, which consisted of a terrifying image accompanied by a loud noise, or bar them from logging in at all.

The administration decided it had gotten out of hand when Jupiter began targeting the teachers. It mailed the teachers frightening report card predictions for their students. “I received a physical letter that read, ‘There is a high probability that half of your students will fail your class this semester. Sincerely, Jupiter,’” remarked one anonymous teacher. Another teacher received a letter that said, “Send your social security number to the return address of this envelope or all of your students will receive a 64 in your subject. Much love, Jupiter.”

In order to solve the problem, Principal Yu decided that Stuyvesant could no longer rely on Jupiter. Instead, the entire school would transition back to PupilPath, which has never had any malicious intent—besides the time it leaked everyone’s data, of course.

However, just yesterday, freshman Trys Hart reported that when they tried to log onto PupilPath, it gave them a similar clown face jumpscare. A word of advice to every Stuyvesant student: run for your lives!