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InGen High
By CeratosPit
*disclaimer: As some of you may know, this isn't the first Jurassic prequel parody taking place with the characters in high school. I've read one before, nearly a year ago, and while I don't remember who wrote it, I would just like to say that this story is my own. It's been insPired by such shows as X-Men evolution and Clone High, and has derived more insPiration from them.
I would also like to state, that while this is a Jurassic farce, it isn't necessarilly one of my Jurassic Krap stories. Quite the contrary. In writing this tale, I tried to keep as much of the storyline in sync with the storylines of the movies that happen in the characters' futures, and to some extent, the novels. (Look for characters such as Thorne and Guitierrez to make an appearence ;) Don't worry about certain plot lines in the story that would make the future events seem unlikely. The twist ending will explain them all nicely.
And finally, yes, there WILL be dinosaurs in this story and no, they won't sPeak. It's an action comedy.
That said, if you are still reading this, then you can obviously sense a good story ahead. You have good taste*
It was a cloudy and windy morning in Shimmyville. The sky was gray with the promise of rain and a gloomy day ahead. Not a good way to start my new life here, thought Al as his parents drove him to his new school. Al was 16 years old, had light brown hair and was better than average looking at best. The bland expression on his face conveyed just how unexcited he was about moving to this small town buried somewhere in middle America. And more than unexcited, he was filled with anxiety about how he would have to restart the most angst ridden introductory period anybody in the civilized world could face: The first day of High school. Looking at his face, though, you would think he was as cool as a cucumber about it.
"Now son, I know you're filled with anxiety about how you have to restart the most angst ridden introductory period anybody in the civilized world could face, (aka, the first day of High school)" his mother started from the driver's seat, "but just remember that you've done this before, and it's never as bad as it seems."
"Oh, you're right mom, it's much worse. The first time I started High school, Randy Johnson forced me to eat the frog I dissected in Biology. And it wasn't even one of those good frogs they eat in France. It was one of those West African sex changing frogs."
"Heh Heh. Transvestite frogs." quipped Al's dad from the front passenger seat. "Who says God doesn't have a sense of humor?"
"The Taliban?" guessed his son.
"Well, we're here, Al." his mother informed. "There's a parking sPot right over there by those cheerleaders!" As she parked by the desirable teenaged girls, she rolled down the window and yelled, "Hey, girls! Which one of you lucky ladies wants to date this young supermodel in the backseat?"
"Mom!" Alan snapped. He looked out the windows and saw the cheerleaders laugh as they walked away.
"What, I was just trying to jumpstart your social life. And don't let those airheads discourage you. I'm sure there's plenty of even prettier girls in this school."
"That's right son. And if there's one thing us Grant males know how to do, it's attract gorgeous women like a bug zapper! Even though we sometimes end up marrying the homely variety."
"Albert!" snapped his wife.
"Relax, Alice, I was referring to my brother Alvin. I married a bodacious betty!"
"Oh you stud!" She grabbed him by the back of the neck and they started making out.
Behind them, the car door slammed shut and young Al Grant could be seen running from the vehicle as fast as he could. His mom already ruined his reputation with the cheerleaders, but the last thing he wanted to be known as was the kid with the horny parents. Once he achieved a reasonable distance, he slowed down and took in the scenery of the school grounds along with the various faces of it's inhabitants. A few of the first characters he noticed were a hairy kid in a paper hat with a mustache, and a punked out blond girl in fishnet stockings and random garments of clothing held together with safety pins.
The boy approached her and said, "Hey Mandy, you wanna go out sometime?"
To which the girl retorted, "Drop dead, Paul. I'd rather go out with Dennis Nedry."
Suddenly, a really chunky boy in a "sPock Rulez" t-shirt waddled over to the outcast hottie Amanda. "So, toots, should we meet at your place or mine?"
"Eat shit, Dennis." she walked away.
Alan saw the little drama come to a close when a black teen with a mustache and a long coat came up to him. "Hey, man, you got a cigarette?"
"No, I don't smoke." Alan replied. "It's a filthy, deadly habit and I don’t ever intend to start it."
The kid looked at him, cockeyed. "What country you from?"
"What?"
"What ain't no country I ever heard of. They sPeak English in What?"
"Excuse me?"
"English, Motherf*cker, do you sPeak it!?"
By now Alan was getting a little freaked out, and didn't know what to say next. Luckily, a tall, lanky kid with black hair, clothing and sunglasses stepped into the fold with a cigarette in hand.
"Hey, ah, calm down Ray. Here, take one of mine."
"That's right!" said Ray, taking the cig and walking away. "You my boy, Ian!"
"Holla!" Ian hollered back.
"I suppose I owe you my life." Al thanked.
"Yeah, a, ah, friendly piece of advice, man. Never sPeak ill of smoking in front of Ray Arnold. Name's, ah, name's Ian, by the way. Ian Malcolm." he extended his hand.
"Al Grant." he shook it. "I'm new here. It's my first day."
"Ah. Then allow me to be the first to say, ah, welcome to InGen high."
And so, a friendship was born. Meanwhile, from a window overlooking the school grounds, a middle-aged man with a white beard and an obvious toupee stood, watching the children go about their ways.
"Look at them all." he said with a hint of insanity. "Like ants. Trendy, sexy teenaged ants with designer clothes and an endless vocabulary of slang terminology that the world's foremost linguists couldn't decipher. But if they are ants, then this is their hill and I am their queen. The brilliant, infallible queen who controls them and belabors them with a meaningless, inconsequential workload! Buried, in which, is the forefront of modern genetic research that will seep into their brains over all else. And once they all graduate with an advanced understanding of biogenetic engineering, I will recruit them into my organization where they will make for me, an army of super-clones! Then I, John Hammond, will rule the world!"
"But John," he said to himself from a different angle, "why must your intentions be so sinister? Why, think of all the wonderful things you can do with the top minds in the field of genetic research. You could cure illnesses, solve world hunger, recreate creatures long extinct and put them in an amusement park!"
"Now that is the most ridiculous idea I have ever heard!" he said to himself. "Why would I create a prehistoric petting zoo? Unless, of course it was filled with ill tempered beasts that ate people. Then my super-clones could ride them into battle, where they would eat the remnants of the inferior sPecies ruling the world today!"
"It's always world domination with you, isn't it?"
"Well, if I can't get universal omnipotence, I'm just going to have to settle, aren't I?" There is a knock on the door. "Now, go away. I have matters to attend to! Come in."
A geeky looking, well dressed boy in glasses steps inside. "Good day, uncle John. Were you talking to someone?"
"For the last time, Peter Ludlow, it's 'Principal Uncle John'! And for your information, I was on the phone with Mr..." he stalls and looks at his desk, "Deskman."
"I see. Well, I brought you the list of entries for the today's science fair, just as you requested." Ludlow reached into his purse and handed his uncle the list.
"You know, boy, you should stop carrying that purse around. There are rumors going on about you."
"It's not a purse, it's a bag. A Unisex bag. And there aren't any rumors about me!"
"Oh sure there are, I started most of them myself. Now let's see.." Principal Hammond shifted his attention to the list. "500 uses for fossilized mosquitoes, by Juanito Rostagno. Oh great, we have the George Washington Carver of fossilized mosquitoes. Lame. Effects of South sea Cone shell venom on the human nervous system by Eddie Carr. Boring. What's that brainy Asian transfer student from BioSyn High doing for the fair?"
"Henry Wu? He's doing some evolutionary reversal experiment on a couple of birds."
"Hmm. Does it involve... genetic engineering?"
"Well, yes, I suppose."
"Interesting." John sat behind his desk and turned his seat to face the window. He looked back outside. "Very, very interesting, I say."
2 B continued...
2/13/2003 11:39:30 PM
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