Amazing adventures of the Lawrence administrators –pm eek

Erik Wyse

Most Lawrentians know very little about the administration that helps keep the school running. These people are not ordinary humans like you and I. With that said, I want to start a series detailing the origins of each of these interstellar administrators.

Disclaimer: The following stories are probably not true, but I did not ask the concerned for facts, so they could very well be true. Let the people decide. Fiction often excites the mind more than fact anyway.

Jill Beck entered the world in a sudden flash of light, as she protruded from the head of Richard Warch fully grown. Her intellect was at once startling, and her gaze cut through appearances to the truth.

She struggled at first to control and harness all of her amazing powers. Often Richard Warch was the only person she could find who would understand her plight — he being a superhuman as well.

Jill Beck finally found a safe haven to test her powers when she entered the Julliard dance studio. Here she found that she could concentrate and distill her psychic powers into pure dance magic. The waltz was not enough; she needed to test her might in free jazz dancing, the highest of the dark dancing arts.

But Jill Beck had the strong constitution to use the dark art of dancing for good. Her name soon echoed around Metropolis — her power pirouettes the talk of the town.

In the summer of 1992 — that now infamous summer — Jill Beck faced her toughest challenge yet. The forces of evil, otherwise known as dinner theatres, sought after Jill Beck’s rare powers.

The local Metropolis theatre forced Jill Beck into becoming part of their show, then tricked the public into eating their horrible microwaved food and enduring hours of poor direction and production value.

Jill Beck began to grow tired, to lose the passion in her one-step, two-step. With another closing scene winding down, Jill Beck called upon all her strength and produced the best jazz hands the eyes of man have ever seen.

At once her jazz hands blinded the audience, their energy pouring forth, spreading pure, unadulterated truth into the minds of the weak. As she continued to brilliantly shake her hands an amazing thing happened. All of the microwaves of Metropolis simultaneously exploded.

This brave act was enough to shut down all of the local dinner theatres for months as they fought through lawsuit after lawsuit and scrounged appliance stores for available high-powered microwaves at low cost. The Totino’s Company, makers of the famous pizza rolls, almost went bankrupt that summer.

Jill Beck, in the aftermath, was made a hero and was granted protective immunity from dinner theatres. With her freedom regained, and a new sense of her own power, Jill Beck hit the open road. Jill Beck became a force for ultimate good, not to be partnered with Jell-O — Jell-O pales in comparison.

There isn’t much information on the few years directly following the microwave summer of 1992. What is clear is that Jill Beck for at least a little while studied under the grand dance master Patrick Swayze — may he dirty dance in peace — to refine her talents and powers.

After completing this intensive practice, Jill Beck re-entered the public sphere. Lucky for us she set her sights on Lawrence as her next big project. I’m told she can still dazzle with her dance moves but I warn anyone not to ask her to do jazz hands.

There are several reasons why Jill Beck is rarely seen. The first is that her singular brilliance is too much for any single student to bear. The other more obvious reason for her scarcity on campus is that there are microwaves in almost every building. So think of Jill Beck the next time you heat up some pizza rolls. In that same two minutes, she could change the world.