Principal Peter Hill had the exact look of a great leader or politician. He was tall, with wide shoulders, a receding gray hairline, and the eyes of someone who had been smiling a lot, and doesn't intend to stop. He looks kind and understanding as well.

When he walks up to the podium, people sit up and expect him to give them a speech like Martin Luther King Jr. They expect him to give them courage, or at least the type of sentences you would see on a far-too-expensive postcard in an airport shop.

They do not, however, expect him to speak like your average soccer mom, or have the speech ability of a paid-like-shit yoga couch.

"Here at Denaro High, we hope to help troubled kids get back on their feet. We know with the right counselling, they'll find their way into the light and eventually rise up to become their own stars!"

.... Ouch. Maybe if this was some generic run-of-the-mill happy-go-lucky movie with a swell of an orchestra this line might actually have worked. But in the wake of a couple hundred depressed and angry, it just fell flat.

Principal Hill seemed to realize this.

"I'm your principal, Principal Hill, please move to the cafeteria for registration," Principal Hill continued, much more quietly and much faster than before. The enthusiasm was flat.

Princeton Tartalia, stood up from his seat, stretching. He wasn't a student, but rather a cameraman, hired to annually film the registrations and opening assembly of Denaro High School.

Princeton was sure of two things. One, that with his B.A. in English, he should be doing something far different than film a stupid high school thing, and two, that normal high schools didn't do this.

In fact, when Principal first came up to the recently out of college 28-year-old with this plan, Princeton was 90% sure it was illegal. But, principal Hill assured him that the parents had consented, and the pay was good. So, Princeton was able to put his concern aside.

Apparently Denaro High School was where kids who had broken the law had to go. Usually, they only stayed for one year, but sometimes, more and more as of late, they've been staying for two.

Anyway, it was to interview the students again. This was always fun.

"Alana Beck?"

A short girl with big glasses walked in front of Princeton's camera. Princeton had to look at her twice. You don't see many kids that look like they could own you and the world. She looked like the power was in her hands, even though she also looked like she was about to cry. Princeton nearly wanted to run away, based on pissed she looked. Princeton gulped, but before he could say anything, she interrupted.

"Are you the first counselor?" she asked, in a very 'I know what I'm talking about manner'. "Why do you have a puppet?"

Princeton groaned, uncomfortable. "That's not a very nice thing to ask," he told the kid. "Can you, um, tell the camera your name and why you're here?"

Alana crossed her arms, looking annoyed. "I'm Alana Beck," she stated, looking directly and confidently into the camera. "And I'm here because apparently I stole another kid's identity, even though I thought he was dead, and I was only trying to help out everyone else. Besides, I'd thought Evan was-."

"That's enough, thank you," Princeton interrupted quickly. He was completely sure she would start a speech if he allowed her to continue. He handed her a couple sheets of paper. "Here are your classes. Please go to your homeroom."

Alana shifted through the paper. "Okay, just allow me to look it over quickly, to make sure everything's-."

Princeton lightly guided the teen to the door, shutting it quickly.

"Brooke Lohst?"

A very nervous girl walked in, and Princeton waved her to the chair. In all honesty, she looked a little ditzy, and Princeton sighed.

"Can you please tell your name and your reason for being here?"

"Well, I'm Brooke and-."

"Full name, please."

"Right," Brooke realized. "I'm Brooke Lohst and I'm here because I accidentally drank a supercomputer that nearly took over the world."

"Please tell the truth."

Brooke blinked. "But that is the-."

"Drugs."

"But it wasn't-."

"Just say, please," Princeton practically begged.

"Chloe Valentine?"

Alright, next up, cool uncaring girl on her phone. This should be easy.

"Please say your name and why you're here."

"Chloe Valentine," the girl said, obviously trying to sound unemotional. It wasn't working. "And I'm here because I accidentally drank a supercomputer that tried to take over the world."

Oh great.

"Tell th-."

"I am."

"..."

"..."

"Please just say drugs."

Chloe flipped him off.

"Christine Canigula?"

A very spastic, very tearful girl rushed in, on the verge of tears. While Princeton was surprised, that didn't stop him from barreling through this.

"Uh, please say your name and why you're here," Princeton told her.

"Please, please, I didn't know what I was doing please don't make me go here!!" the girl begged. Princeton gulped. He was sorry for her, but his lunch break was in fifteen minutes.

"Please say your name and why you're here," Princeton repeated awkwardly.

Christine sobbed.

"Connor Murphy?"

A emo person came in this time. He also had a phone, like Chloe, but he put it away.

"Please say your name and why you're here."

"Conner Murphy," the kid said. "And I'm here because of drugs, but I would argue I've learned my lesson, as I did die-."

"Thanks, that's all."

"Elphaba Thropp?"

This girl was much like Alana Beck, but looked less aggressive, and she was green. Princeton tried to give her a smile, but it was not returned.

"Er, uh, please state your name and why you're here."

"I'm Elphaba Thropp," Elphaba said. "And I'm here for 'un-peaceful protest' even though a bunch of people were yelling at me-."

"Alright, thank you."

"Heather Chandler?"

A girl with very odd attire walked in. Princeton frowned, but thought best not to mention it. She, like Alana and Elphaba, also looked like she could crush him. The difference was that this girl looked like she wanted to.

"Please say your name and why you're here."

Heather titled her nose up at him.

"I'm Heather Chandler," she told him, as if that was obvious. "And I'm here because of drugs, but really, it was cleaning fluid."

"...Okay."

"Heather Duke?"

Another girl walked in, and Princeton almost assumed the same thing for her as with Heather Chandler. But this girl's power was paper thin. It seemed as if she was trying to be something bigger than she was.

"Please say your name and why you're here."

Heather tsked at him. "Heather Duke, and I'm here because of bullying."

Well, at least it was slightly normal...

"Heather... McNamara?"

Alright, three girls with the same name one after the other, dressed mostly the same. Must be some sort of cult.

"Say your name and why you're here."

This Heather seemed a little nicer though. "I'm Heather McNamara and I'm here because of bullying!"

Alright, never mind.

"Galinda Upland?"

Wow, Princeton had heard of people that wanted to look like princesses, but this girl looked like a princess twice over. It was almost concerning.

"Er... state your name and your reason for being here."

What was that, Princeton wondered, they weren't playing D&D. Maybe it was how the girl was dressed?

Glinda smiled, and she looked like those Photo-shopped people in toothpaste commercials.

"I'm Glinda Arduenna Upland," Glinda said, and Princeton felt he had been blessed. "And I don't actually don't know why I'm here."

Princeton gulped. "It says that you're here for 'un-peaceful protest'."

Glinda smiled again. "Oh. Okay."

She got up and walked away, almost prep like.

"Jake Dillinger?"

The person who came in was an odd sight. He almost looked like a football player, but he wheeled in on a wheelchair.

"Say your name and why you're here."

"Uh... Jake Dillinger, and I'm going to assume you don't mean breaking my legs by jumping out a window," Jake guessed.

'...What?'

"So, I guess I'll say that I accidentally drank a supercomputer and it nearly took over the world," Jake continued.

Princeton frowned.

"Jared Kleinman!"

A geeky kid swaggered in, with a Zelda t-shirt and the nerdiest glasses Princeton's ever seen.

"Say your name and why you're here."

"Well, I'm glad you asked," the boy said, 'smoothly'. "I'm the Insanely Cool Jared Kleinman!"

"...And you're here because...?"

"Oh, you know, getting in a fight with this racist dude-," Jared started, impressively confidently.

"The real reason," Princeton had to interrupt.

"Ugh," Jared groaned. "Impersonation...."

"Jason Dean!"

A kid, dressed way too warm for the summer, marched in. He had burn marks on his face.

"Say your name and why you're here."

"Jason Dean," the kid replied, smirking. "And I won't be here very long, I'll find a way to get kicked out again."

Princeton sighed. "Just say why you're here."

"Oh, you know, pyromania."

"Jenna Rolan!"

Alright, this kid was even more of a phone addict than the rest put together. She looked totally engrossed in it, not even looking up she bumped into some desks and cabinets.

"Say your name and why you're here."

"Jenna Rolan. Drugs."

Odd, but short. Princeton was almost thankful.

"Although, it's not really my fault," Jenna continued, making that thankful feeling crash and burn. "It wasn't actually drugs, it was-."

"A supercomputer you accidentally swallowed that wanted to take over the world?" Princeton tiredly sighed. Jenna looked surprised.

"How'd you know?"

Princeton groaned.

"Jeremy Heere!"

A nervous kid shuffled in. Princeton would have looked him over, but he had been doing this for five hours, and frankly, he was tired.

"State your name and the reason you're here."

...God, that sounded like a pun didn't it? Princeton inwardly rolled his eyes at himself.

"J-Jeremy H-Heere...." the kid spoke. "And, well, uh, I kind of swallowed a supercomputer and-."

"It tried to take over the world," Princeton finished. Jeremy looked startled.

"Y-Yeah..." Jeremy answered slowly.

"You sure you didn't accidentally swallow it?"

"What?" Jeremy asked. "No?"

"Okay."

"Mark Hansen?"

A very nervous boy walked in, clutching his right arm with his left tightly. He looked like he was either going to pass out or be sick. Or both.

"Say your name and why you're here."

"Uh.... uh... Evan H-Han-."

"Full name, please."

Princeton didn't think it was possible, but this kid might have invented something lighter than white on his face.

"S-Sorry," Evan apologized quickly. "Uh, Mark Evan Hansen, and I'm here... I'm here.... Uh, Mark Evan Hansen and I'm here f-f...uh..."

Princeton glanced at the clock. Was it him or was it going slower than usual.

"Michael Mell!"

Princeton was pretty sure that no outside food was allowed in the school, but this kid didn't seem to notice, with his blue slushie in his hand. Out of all the kids, this one was one of the ones that looked kind of high.

"Say your name and why you're here."

"Uh, I'm Micheal Mell," the kid told him. "and as for why I'm here, the thing is, I don't think they're right about that.."

Princeton urged Mcheal to continue.

"Well, they said drugs or something, I guess," Michael said. "Even though I wasn't part of the squipcident..."

Princeton frowned. "The police found the smell of drugs on your backpack..."

Micheal sighed. "Fair."

"Richard Goranski!"

Well, this kid was short. Princeton was looking down at him, which was saying something. He also had weird burns covering his arms and some of his face. It was an interesting look.

"Say your name and why you're here."

"Richard Goranski, and," Richard leaned back in the chair in the way you would if you wanted to look cool. "It's either arson or drugs."

"Veronica Sawyer!"

A girl dressed in really old clothing came in. She looked pretty confident for someone wearing that. Though you might need to be confident to even consider going out in public like that.

"Say your name and why you're here."

"I'm Veronica Sawyer," the girl said. "And I'm here because I blew up my old high school boiler room."

'....This school's got its work cut out for them,' Princeton thought, blinking.