“Stuyvesant? In THIS Economy?”

“This is outrageous!” Principal Yu exclaims. “With prices this high, how are we to fund the various needs of our glorious school?”

This comes amidst the economic crisis of the century. Starbucks drinks can now drain bank accounts with their price tags, but the staff needs caffeine to deal with nerds all day. The rat union of the Stuy lockers demand payments in exchange for not residing in the hallways, as they have been bribed since the founding of Stuyvesant in 1904. And with all this inflation, how on earth will the principal fund his BTS minifigure collection?

“Think, Yu, think,” he murmurs. What is the natural response to not having enough money amidst rising prices? “Hm.”

And then, it hits him. TAXES.

“AMAZING IDEA!” he proclaims to himself, as once again, there is no one else in the room to hear his scheming. “LET’S CHARGE THEM TO USE THE HALF FLOOR! No, why stop at the half floor? The sophomore bar! The atriums! Yes! Genius! Yu, you’ve done it again!”

And that, my friends, is where this utopia becomes dystopia.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“¡VIVA LA REVOLUCIÓN!”

Mr. Peng sweats profusely as his personal finance class goes feral over the newly imposed taxes, dubbed collectively by the student body as “Yu’s Dues.” Financial burden has plagued every reachable corner of the school. Students on the half floor now have to pay to get the classic experience of littering everywhere. Couples weep as they can no longer “secretly” get their smoochie smooches on in the Hudson—it costs $5 per entry, plus a 10 percent couple’s tax. Locker payment is also back, and it’s more debilitating than ever.

“Oh, I’m waiting for them to process my payment!” stated an anonymous sophomore on the locker rentals earlier. “They’re checking my credit score. Hopefully I can pay off that loan later.”

A junior also commented tearfully, “I-I’ve had to sell m-my TI-84 CE plus in metallic purple… to pay for enough bathroom passes. It’s not my fault I have irritable b-bowel syndrome…”

Yet the dismay surrounding Yu’s Dues was worsened by inequality—namely, the slow but sure discovery that students with better grades were exempt from certain taxes. What a slap to the face. If you’re nerdy enough, you can get into the soph bar for free, or maybe even use the bathroom without emptying the ol’ wallet. Cried in the middle of your last chem test? Get Yu Due-d, you broke failure.

“I cannot BELIEVE that you need a 4.0 GPA to get out of this mess!” a senior, already a nervous wreck over applying to 38 colleges and only getting into two safeties, exclaimed in an interview. “This is INJUSTICE. I got a B- in freshman AP Bio. So what? I now know that the golgi body is the powerhouse of the cell! Does that count for nothing? Am I to be reduced to a numerical value, and to be subjected to UNFAIR TAXATION over it? No more!”

“THIS IS THE ONE PERCENT BERNIE WARNED US ABOUT!” shouted a Global Studies teacher.

A crowd of outraged, A-minus students collects during third period, which is arguably too early in the day to stage a revolt, but whatever works. Their march proceeds swiftly to the office of the man who started it all.

Poor, unsuspecting Principal Yu. He hardly notices the rumbling outside his office, until a Jungkook minifigure on his desktop tips over. Soon, the revolution swamps the floor.

“YU’S DUES LOSE!” they mercilessly chant. It’s not an amazing chant, but it was either that or “snooze,” which is too Disney for a revolution.

“PLEASE!” Principal Yu begs. “I JUST… WANTED… SOME… COFFEE!”

Amidst the chaos, a lone freshman climbs atop the principal’s desk, unraveling a nonsensically long scroll of coffee-stained paper for historic effect. “As the students of Stuyvesant, we DEMAND no taxation!”

The crowd cheers.

“We DEMAND equal treatment regardless of grades because gosh darn if it wasn’t hard to be here in the first place!”

The crowd roars again as Principal Yu finds himself chanting along with them. What? It’s catchy.

“And we DEMAND that it be socially acceptable for freshies to hang out by the senior bar!”

The crowd stops like a record scratch, then boos. A senior shoves the freshman off the desk.

“WE DEMAND FREE HUDSON STAIRCASE SHENANIGANS!”

The crowd resumes with thundering support!

Hours later, all the revolutionaries remain (except for the LIRR kids who had to make the 4:46 p.m. train). Principal Yu has found himself enjoying the revolution, forgetting his financial strife, and more importantly, agreeing to the terms of this new Constitution at the expense of his staff’s coffee. There was only one condition: never mess with his BTS minifigures again. They had been adequately rustled during the chaos.

Alas, peace and harmony resumes, with students of every grade holding adventures around the school. Youngsters play Valorant on the half floor, sophomores make cringey TikToks around the bar, everyone is once again afraid of the Hudson stairs, and Mr. Peng’s personal finance class sees skyrocketed interest. Stuyvesant is chaotically normal, financially democratic, and tranquil.

…That is, until the rat union begins growing furious over delayed payment.