By Pierce Hudson

[Pictures of cheese courtesy of Wikimedia Commons – Google drawing courtesy of me]
After a rough year in the science department, with teachers leaving one after another, the school board finally decided this April to give up on salvaging the class.
“It’s too much work for one AP class, we really need to start focusing our children on the future. We need to start looking at what’s really coming,” says Jim Cartnal on the situation, alluding to the new class, chosen by him, to replace the AP biology curriculum.
“I just took a whole year of biology for my college credit! What’s happening now?!” students frantically question. Our new cheese-based economy is coming closer and closer to reality and these childish “college classes” are not teaching the necessary skills to survive this dairy fallout.
“Notice how all these stocks have fallen since Covid hit? Well, I’ve got something to show you,” (here, Mr. Cartnal pulled down a tablecloth off his mysterious whiteboard and revealed what he had been spending our school budget on), “Cheese! The only thing that hasn’t just been maintaining its market, but rather rising in price!” (His whiteboard was full of weird drawings of cheese and fake graphs with green arrows pointing upwards, we nodded our heads agreeing with him but slowly backed up as well.) “I’ve been funneling my cheese business through the storage room of the pool. It might have been some expired cheese fumes that shut down our school that one time, but they can’t fire me for this! They won’t find me!!!” (Here Mr. Cartnal scurried off, dropping breadcrumbs of shredded cheese behind him as he fled.)
Many were left dumbfounded by these events, but what came after was even more stunning. On Decembruary 34th, 7:99, students found that the class in room 302 had been completely replaced with one called “Cheesenomics 101” which taught students how to convert all their savings into cheese deposits.
“I’m more of a cheddar guy, but taking this class has really helped me understand the world around me, specifically how to balance a parmesan, swiss life.” Mr. Romero had to say, despite not taking the class.
“Finally something is being taught that will help me outside of school! I’m actually using my tools from prior years as well. I never thought that I would have to use the Pythagorean theorem again, but calculating the volume and surface area of each type of cheese really proved me wrong!” many students, happened to all say.
“I’m actually lactose intolerant, does this mean I fail?” one student asked as they were then dragged out of class for making “a mockery of currency.”
“They’re all focusing on cheese now, but when the rat swarm comes to claim all their precious dairy, they’ll be sorry,” a homeless man added.
Students are expected to learn cheese arithmetic, integrating, and even cheese theory by the AP test coming this May. The history and religion of cheese is also being taught, but it might soon become a separate cheese class if voted by our cheese congress. Sermons in the class cover topics such as the day God (a cow) kicked all those lactose-intolerants out of heaven, or how the leader of the Feta clan parted the seas of milk.
As of now, every student is in complete and udder agreement with the procedures of our school board and is ready to accept cheese as the new faith and currency.
*Published as part of The Spartan’s April Fools satire edition 😉