Have you ever felt that strange prickle on the back of your neck as you emerge from the Snack Shack, reverently cradling a chocolate chip cookie to your chest? Have you ever whirled around, trying to catch a glimpse of the person you’re sure was watching you, only to find an empty stretch of hallway?
You may think that it’s simply stress and paranoia making you hallucinate, or perhaps it’s just the late nights spent pretending to study for a math test when you’re really scrolling TikTok. In reality, however, the truth is far more sinister: the Audio/Video Production class has been filming us all.
The conspiracy runs deeper than any of us could have possibly imagined. It all starts with A/V teacher Rob Bergenstock, the ringleader of this insidious operation. He may give you a friendly wave in the hallways, but don’t be fooled; he is simply considering camera angles for the next time a member of his class sneaks up on you.
Consider the following evidence, and you will undoubtedly see the truth behind A/V’s innocent exterior.
If you examine the Schoology page of this class, you will find nothing, just a line of bland, gray text telling you that “there are no materials for this class.” If that isn’t evidence that Bergenstock is hoping to prevent a paper trail of the class’s misdeeds, I don’t know what is.
Next, turn your gaze to the students. They may laugh with you at lunch and sip their raspberry-flavored Snapple, but I must beseech you again not to be fooled by their innocent demeanors. Look closely enough, and you will see them skulking suspiciously about the hallways with a camera fixed to a rolling cart. Subject them to questioning, and they will soon be on the verge of cracking.
“I’m just getting a good video of, um, the wall,” sophomore Yichen Wang said, his voice straying dangerously close to a pitch only dogs would be able to hear. “It’s a nice wall. We’ve got great walls here.”
As I walked away, I saw Wang train his camera on an unsuspecting student secretly sticking their gum under one of the microwaves. His expression lit up with the kind of pure glee that can only mean that disaster is incoming.
Even the classroom is not safe from A/V’s pesky cameras. Senior Gabby Yang was just waking up from a lovely nap in Room 23’s storage closet when she came face-to-face with a camera lens. Being a reasonable individual, she batted the person with her bundled-up hoodie, which proved to be a surprisingly effective technique to chase away the silent filmer. Still, Yang wonders what blackmail material the class has on her now.
“I’m scared of what they might have gotten,” Yang said. “Like, what if I snored? Or drooled? Or started sleep-talking about definite integrals?”
Even more troubling than these secret videos are the plans the class has for them. Math teacher Sara Dorset unexpectedly stumbled upon evidence as she ventured down the steps from the math classroom. Hunched between the gym and Room 21 was Bergenstock, loudly whispering into his phone as a silent video ran on a laptop.
“He said something like ‘Stay tuned for the next episode’,” Dorset said. “I’m lowkey upset about that. Saying ‘stay tuned’ is my thing.”
The evidence is undeniable. Audio/Video Production is clearly amassing a large selection of videos of Pinewood students, presumably to cobble together some kind of show. How much farther are they willing to go? A million-dollar Netflix deal? Dangling from ceilings with microphones? Stealing Doritos straight out of students’ hands to manufacture drama for the ratings?
Be vigilant. Stay watchful. And whatever you do, don’t ever go near anyone with a camera.
